A Ring of Turmoil
by Elaine Dawkins
Summary: Tom Riddle and his wife try to learn to get along peacefully with each other. Random story by my sister Charlene Bates and I.
1. Chapter 1

_It was the end of WWII. Europe had simmered down into the cold war. And yet, another spark had been lit. It was not well-known, nor was it heard of by radio broadcast or by the newspapers. In fact, only two people knew of this battle; it was kept secret from the rest of the world. It started on an ordinary day; September the 18th. A random day by itself, but powerful to the two individuals who now spent their time warring in the kitchen of their small cottage in the outskirts of London. _

_It was seven a.m. and Beth Riddle was seeing to a few slabs of bacon that sizzled noisily in a frying pan. She began to hum a tun as she flipped the bacon over. The song was unfamiliar to Tom, her husband, who was sitting at the table and pouring over the morning newspaper. He glanced up at her and occasioned a small question:_

"_Sleep well?" He took a small sip of the coffee which, though life-sustaining, was far too strong in his opinion. He pursed his lips, closed his eyes, and swallowed slowly. When he opened his eyes, Beth was sliding the greasy bacon off a pan and onto two plates._

"_I didn't sleep well at all," she hummed some more. "I'm gonna hafta get us some more bacon. I just cooked the last bit. Do you want some more coffee?" she held up the coffee pot and smiled pleasantly._

_He coughed once and raised his eyebrows slightly, glancing at the coffee pot which seemed an unpleasant threat to him._

"_No, no thank you. I think I have enough right here," Tom said coolly and held up his almost-full coffee cup as evidence. He started to bring it to his lips before realizing he really didn't want any and placed it back on the table. He turned slowly back to the newspaper and tried to focus on an article. Quickly, he lowered the paper and looked over at Beth. "What is that…" he paused trying to think of a less insulting adjective than 'incessant' before giving up, "that tune you are humming?"_

"_The Boogie Woogie Bugle Man. Why?"_

"_Is that a muggle song?"_

"_Yes. Eat your bacon," She sat down in a chair opposite his and began to eat her own portion._

_Tom mumbled something that he hoped his wife did not hear and resumed his reading. A large headline at the top of the page caught his attention and he focused in on the article. The story got increasingly interesting and he rapidly became engrossed, losing all interest in his breakfast. He heard the phrase "eat your bacon" repeated several more times before it finally registered. Folding the paper up agitatedly, he set it beside his plate and looked up at Beth. Stiffly, he reached down to his plate, took hold of a piece of bacon, and brought it to his mouth. Taking a bite, he chewed it moodily and continued to stare at his wife, eyebrows lowered darkly over his eyes in a look of cool impertinence._

_Beth looked up and, meeting his gaze, looked down at her plate. A feeling of sadness came over her and she began to cry. "You don't like my cooking?" her voice seemed higher pitched than usual and she sniffed a few times. She wiped her eyes and then added, "I'm trying as hard as I can. I just don't know what you want from me - just tell me what to do to make you happy with me and I'll do it!"_

_Tom swallowed slowly and tried to keep from sighing in exasperation. He took another bite of the bacon and chewed, hoping to buy some time._

"_Beth, darling, I simply wanted to read the paper in piece and quiet. I did not mean that I don't like your cooking. In fact," he spoke on a sudden inspiration, though he really hated kissing up to people like this, "I was simply trying to get my newspaper-reading out of the way so I could focus all my attention on the breakfast you prepared for me." He ended with a slightly pouty look, pretending he was upset that she didn't realize he was 'just trying to be nice.' He picked up another piece of bacon and focused on producing a look of complete dejection._

_Beth gave a small smile and wiped the rest of the stray tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry, I just guess I'm a bit worried - that's all."_

_Tom nodded, still reserved. He lifted his cup of coffee to his lips - more to conceal a smile of triumph that crossed his face than to get a drink of the bitter liquid. He turned away to hide the look that crossed his face as the coffee hit his taste-buds ruthlessly._

"_Beth…" he said slowly - he knew he was treading on thin ice and, as much as he hated it, he would have to be the peace-keeper, "did you ever learn how to cook, oh, I don't know… the magical way?" He raised his eyebrows slightly and looked mildly curious as he awaited her answer._

"_Yes, but I was always fudging it - so to speak - and also, I burnt down the family farm back in '35 just because I wanted to make a melted cheese sandwich. I just do it better the old-fashion way. This coffee is bitter," she made a face. "I can't believe you're drinking it. Yuck!!!! I'm pouring mine down the drain. Gag-a-moose; that is just terrible!" she went over to the kitchen sink and emptied her mug. She filled it again with some tap water and took a few gulps to clear away the taste._

_Tom sighed and rolled his eyes. When she had placed her mug down and returned her attention to him, he tasted the coffee with an inquisitive look on his face. Quickly he changed it to a look of disgust and proclaimed, "You are quite right, Beth! It is rather bitter!" He shook his head as though amazed at himself for 'not having noticed before.' He, too, poured it down the drain, but went for something stronger than water to replace his coffee. Opening a cupboard, he found some fire-whisky and poured it into his cup. Taking a sip of it, he deemed it "much better" and made his way back to his seat at the table._

"_Are you doing anything today?" Beth suddenly changed her attitude altogether. She got up off her chair and went over to him. She placed her arms around his neck and proceeded to kiss him on the cheek. "Not working are you?" she batted her eyelashes and played with her hair in an alluring manner. _

_Tom smirked, quickly letting go any of his reservations about his new wife. He was suddenly remembering all the many 'good qualities' she had._

"_No, not working…" he said carefully, keeping his look cool yet interested. He glanced sideways at her and did a half-smile while raising one eyebrow in a "you want to?" look._

_She smirked at him and taunted him, "Say it."_

_He felt caught half between laughter and annoyance. He returned the smirk and mumbled something that he was sure she probably did not understand and would be asked to repeat. However, before Beth could say anything, he jumped up out of his chair and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her to him._

_Beth felt a peaceful feeling come over her. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. There was a moment of silence and then the phone rang._

_Tom glared at it and silently thought a few curse-words. Quickly, he pulled out his wand and silenced the phone on the wall, still holding Beth to him._

"_Why didn't you answer it?" Beth gave him a funny look. "It could have been Mr. Borgan - or my mother. Now someone will probably pop in just to make sure we're still alive. We'll have to wait and see. I don't want someone just materializing in our house when we're - well, you know - and that's is just gross!" She backed away from Tom and began to clear the table._

_Tom groaned and glared at the phone. Such an evil muggle object in their home. He didn't know why he allowed it to remain there. He glanced over at Beth to make sure that she was not looking at him. Silently, he lifted his wand to point it at the inferior communication device. Swiftly it disappeared. He wondered how he would explain it's disappearance to Beth. After all, she was not stupid and it would take her no time at all to prove that it was he who had gotten rid of it. He figured the best thing to do would be to distract her so she wouldn't notice its absence for at least a little while._

_He approached her slowly and spoke, "Beth… I don't think we need worry… after all, there are places… we could… go…" He stroked her hair lightly and prayed that there was still some hope for the day._

"_Where?" Beth seemed extremely distracted and she didn't even show the slightest sign that she noticed him touch her. She looked about the room as though in search for the 'place they could go.' "A hotel," she suggested after a moment. "Although, I don't like them much - always preferred home. What about - um - the . . ," she fell silent, finding that she had no other idea. "I suppose," she concluded. "That we could dig a hole and burry ourselves in it," she gave a look that showed this statement was said in simple desperation. _

_Tom's lips formed a tight line and his forehead wrinkled up as he wracked his brain for an idea. He was a wizard after all; he could come up with a better idea than 'a hole.' So, she wouldn't go for a hotel… but maybe she would go for… the shed! He moved to look out the kitchen window at a small but none-the-less substantial shed that was usually meant to store muggles' gardening tools and was currently used to store brooms. A few magical spells and it would be… cozy - he liked that adjective. That is what Beth wanted wasn't it? If it couldn't be 'home' it could at least be near home and be 'homey.' He made his way towards the back door and opened it purposefully. He walked briskly, focussing on the lone building._

_Once he arrived at it, he opened the shed door and immediately a small spider lowered itself down in front of him. He made it disappear with a wave of his wand and entered. He turned about in the 5 meter by 4 meter structure. It was just a bit dusty and there were small bugs and spiders - he could get rid of all of that! Swiftly he moved about the room, clearing away the many things that covered the walls. He conjured up some curtains to cover the one window, added candles along the walls, and produced a nice -size bed that took up just about every centimeter of the room. After conjuring up a few other 'necessities,' he made his way back outside and into the kitchen._

"_I want to show you something," he said shortly to Beth before turning and walking back out the door and toward the shed._

"_What is it?"_

"_You'll see," he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her across the lawn. _

"_The shed?" she questioned. _

_Tom nodded. "Go on in," he placed her hand on the door handle._

"_Okay," She opened the door. "What the . . . wow . . . um . . . wow . . . that's - I don't know what to say. It's really nice. I don't suppose you would decorate the rest of the house would you?" she laughed._

_Tom rolled his eyes in annoyance. Why did she always have to make dumb jokes about this sort of stuff? It wasn't funny; it was business. _

_He turned to shut the door._

"_Wait!" Beth scrambled off the bed and pulled back on of the curtains. "It's my parent's car - they just landed out there on the driveway. I thought I heard something fly over. They were probably the ones trying to contact us."_

_Tom pushed the curtains closed and stepped over in front of the exit._

"_They'll never even think to look in here," he said in a low voice. "They'll go inside, realize we aren't home and leave. Why would we spend our time in here anyway? Well, I mean, as far as they know, it's just where we keep our broomsticks." He raised his eyebrows as if to say 'and your rebuttal is?'_

_Beth bit her lip and made a face that plainly said she believed that they should go out and be polite since they had come all the way out just to visit. "We could wait till later - besides, I have a creepy feeling with them around. I mean, we might as well do it in my parents bed. Come on," she placed her hand in his._

_His face hardened into a look of utter contempt._

"_YOU are more than welcome to go out there and greet their unwelcome persons," he spoke through gritted teeth, "however, I wish to remain right here."_

_He pulled his hand out of hers and bounced down onto the bed, arms crossed. 'After all I tried to do for her…' he thought exasperatedly._

_Beth looked quite shocked at his answer. She looked down at her hand as though it had been scalded by boiling water and then she opened the door and left the shed. _

_An hour later, she returned. Tom was lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. She cleared her throat and said to the room at large, "I'm sorry." That was all she could conjure up to say. _

_Tom looked over at her and twirled his wand between his fingers, but he did not answer her._

"_Mum and Dad were sorry that you had to work today. That's what I told them. I'm totally free now - so," she stopped, seeing the expression that was on her husband's face. "I couldn't - um. Surely you understand. It's nothing against you . . . Tom Marvolo Riddle, would you please stop ignoring me?!"_

_His eyes flashed with a red-hot anger at the use of his full name. Rarely was it used, but when it was, it brought up many unwanted thoughts. He sat up quickly, placing his feet on the floor. Pushing quickly up from the bed, he walked over to her._

"_You expect me to not ignore you, when you just ignored me because of them," he said in contempt pointing out the window where they had previously sighted her parents. "And what kind of nerve do they have coming over the day after our wedding?!! What did they honestly think that we'd be doing together?!! Knitting?!!!" He was taken aback for a moment at his comment about knitting - of all the things for him to think of right now… Quickly, though, he returned to his anger. Glaring at Beth, he waited for her response._

"_Knitting?" this had surprised her also. She made a confused expression, but quickly changed it to a concerned look. "I said that I was sorry. I can't bring back that hour - I mean, time-turners cost millions of pounds - anyway," she realized that she had gotten off of subject. "I have the time now. Yes, I know that does not appease you, but what can I do about it? If you're in a mood, well then, so be it. I will be in the kitchen, making your lunch. If you don't come in in about half an hour - well then, I guess I'll be eating alone." With that, she marched back towards the house._

_Tom began to think of all the things he hated about her. She was inconsistent, unable to stay focused, and she could not be serious about anything. Definitely not the perfect wife he had wanted her to be. The only good thing about her, Tom reflected, was that she was pretty. He just needed to get rid of all her bad traits. In fact, Tom was now able to give a small grin, he knew just how to do so._

_He stood up, now somewhat excitedly. Giving the room one last glance, he marched to the door and stepped outside. Before closing the door, he turned to look back inside. He considered changing it back into its old broomstick storage room, but, he realized, they would likely be back. Shutting the door with new vigor, Tom made his way back to the kitchen._

_Seeing that Beth had already started making lunch, he hurried past her, up the stairs, and into the bedroom. He walked over to his dresser and opened the bottom drawer. It creaked loudly and he quieted it quickly with a silencing spell. He reached into the drawer and lifted out a black velvet box. Smiling, he opened it and looked steadily at the gold ring that sat on a pillow of silky fabric, it's black stone shining - Slytherin's ring. He gave it one last, wicked grin and stowed it in his cloak pocket. He closed the drawer and descended the stairs, reentering the kitchen._

_Beth was standing over the stove, intent upon a pot of chicken soup. She was humming, as usual, and made no effort to stop when he entered. _

"_Beth, darling," Tom came up behind her and wrapped one arm around her waist, but kept the other behind his back. _

_Beth did not turn her head, but she did move her eyes so that they gazed at him in a side-ways manner. "What? You trying to get on my good side? Got tired of being in the shed? Well, I'm still in no mood. Lunch is almost ready - Here, take this bowl and go eat."_

_Tom mentally choked back the accusatory and defensive comments that flooded his mind. Swallowing slowly, he took the bowl and sat down at the table. He didn't want her to have the upper hand - he was the one who had a right to be angry after all, but he knew that would get him nowhere. Besides, in the long-run, he would 'win.'_

_Tom sighed as he lifted a spoonful of hot, chicken soup out of the bowl. He glanced over at Beth who was silently ladling soup into her own bowl. She walked over and sat down across from him. He tasted the soup and decided that it was one of her better meals. He knew his only hope would be to apologize._

"_Beth, darling… I'm sorry… about, well, everything," he gazed steadily at her. "I didn't want the day to go this way… and I don't think you did either. Let's just forget it, OK? It's no fun spending our first day together as husband and wife fighting." He continued to gaze at her for a moment and then looked back down at his soup awaiting her reply._

_Beth swallowed and then paused for an instant before replying, "I said I was sorry and you didn't forgive me - why should I forgive you?" She took another spoonful and then another. She did not say another word until she had finished the whole bowl. Then, she got up and went over to the sink to rinse the remains. "I suppose," she suddenly spoke. "That I should forgive you, but I don't know why. Explain to me why your apology means more than mine does. While you're thinking your response through, I will be outside, getting the laundry to hang itself on the line."_

_Tom sat there and stared hopelessly at the soup. He had no whiz-bang reply for her. Slowly he stood up and walked outside. Who says he needed a good answer anyway? She'd either take his apology or she wouldn't._

_He stood behind her for a moment, then spoke, "Beth, my apology is not anymore important than yours. I was, in fact, apologizing for 'everything' - you know, getting angry at you, being a jerk,… not accepting your apology before…" He paused and stared at a pair of socks hanging on the line. "Take it or leave it, that's all I have to say." He turned and walked back towards the house, silently._

_Beth paused for an instant and then called after him, "Tom! I accept your apology. Please don't be mad - I hate being mad - and really, I have frightened myself all too much today. You see, I was worried that our marriage wouldn't work out - and I think this has become a self-fulfilling prophesy. I am sorry! I will try to be more understanding about your feelings. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" She had choked herself up once more and there were tears standing in her eyes._

_Tom grinned slowly, but replaced it with a look of relief and longing before turning back to face her. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, letting her head rest against him. He sighed and tried not to smile as he felt his luck returning._

"_You don't need to do anything to make it up to me! I had no idea you were afraid of such things! Well, this argument's resolution just proves that self-fulfilling prophesy thing to be wrong. I love you and the last thing I want is for anything to come between us." He hugged her tightly and then loosened his hold on Beth, stepping back from her a little. "Though, I must admit that something has been heavy on my mind," he sighed and looked down at his shoes. "Every woman to marry a Riddle has always worn something special - an heirloom…" Tom reached inside his pocket and pulled out the velvet box that held the ring. "This ring," he said lifting it out of the box and holding it before her, "has been borne on the hands of the ladies in my family for generations. I want you to wear it." He looked steadily at her, pleading her to take it with his eyes._

"_Of course I'll wear it. I just wish it wasn't so gaudy. It's a bit eccentric, but I love the thought behind it," she placed it on her right hand and looked at it in the sunlight. "Too bad that there's no such thing in my family - all we've got is an old rocking chair from my Auntie Horabell."_

_Tom made a face. "That rocker is ugly!" he remarked._

"_I know - I didn't want it, but that was the only thing she left me when she died. I have to admit, it does remind me of her."_

_Tom nodded in agreement, "I remember that photo of her that you showed me."_

"_Yes. Well, I have a few more things to do around the house. Then we can do something fun together," Beth walked off toward the house in a happy attitude. _

_Tom smiled and looked around the yard in triumph. He had done it again. If all went well, his wife would soon be very 'like-minded.' He grinned and laughed coldly. Everything would work out in the end; he knew it._

_Several days later, Tom entered the kitchen for breakfast. So far, he had seen little sign of a change in his wife's demeanor. However, the days did seem to go easier. There seemed to be few arguments, well, really no arguments at all._

_Tom smiled as he sat down at the breakfast table. He picked up the paper that had been deposited on the table by a post owl earlier that morning and began to skim the articles interestedly. Beth came up behind him and deposited a plate in front of him. He smiled, looked up at her and wished her a good morning. He continued to scan the paper as he ate his breakfast, but quickly decided that there was nothing of interest in it today. Folding it up neatly, he laid it beside his plate on the table. He looked over at Beth and continued to eat, watching her with some interest._

"_What?" she looked over at him as if expecting some sort of blow._

"_Nothing," Tom picked up the paper and began to pretend that some article had caught his eye after all. _

"_You're going to work today aren't you?"_

_Tom nodded, "Mr. Borgan has a few things he wants me to look into."_

_Beth nodded and then remarked, "Better go get ready - you should be leaving in about five minutes."_

"_Right, I'll be back down in a minute," as he passed by her, he gave her a small kiss on the cheek._

_Beth blushed scarlet and smiled. "You're such a silly romantic!" she laughed._

_Tom took the complement with a nod and went upstairs. _

_A few minutes later, he came back down and found his wife in the living room. She was sitting on the edge of the couch, bent over the coffee table._

_Tom came over to see what she was up to and found that she was unscrewing the lid off a bottle of turpentine. It was then that he noted that she had taken off Slytherin's ring._

"_Why aren't you wearing the ring?!" He sounded more alarmed than he wished, but it was so very important to him._

_Beth looked up at him and remarked that she "didn't want to get it dirty" before returning her attention to the turpentine._

_Tom's mouth hung partially open as he hesitated, trying to think of what to say. He fidgeted a little as he stood there, not knowing what to do._

"_I know this may sound silly," he said finally, "but I'd rather you not take it off - not for anything… I know you don't want to wreck it, but it has lasted through the generations - I don't think anything will happen to it. Please put it back on!" He said this last sentence with a note of desperation in his voice._

"_But I was just going to clean it," Beth seemed a bit worried at her husband's words. "I promise that I wasn't going to hurt it - I just wanted to buff it up a bit."_

_Tom looked at the bottle of turpentine and imagined what such a liquid could possibly do to his horcrux. He quickly walked around the couch and grabbed the bottle. "That should not be put on it - It will ruin it," he gave Beth a horrified expression._

"_Oh, I didn't know it would. I've used this on all my other jewelry - it's never hurt any of it."_

"_Does your other jewelry have any stones set in them?"_

"_No . . just diamonds. Wait, diamonds are stones . . . you're confusing me!"_

"_It's not the same - not quite the same, anyway. Just please don't do that to it. If you have to clean it - which should only be done if it is actually dirty and not just dull - use some olive oil or something."_

"_Alright, sorry that I scared you. I'll just put this stuff away then."_

_Tom nodded; satisfied. As she left the room, he sighed heavily and plopped down on the couch, resting his head in his hands. That was close! He rubbed his eyes slowly and then stood up, realizing that he would be late for work if he didn't leave._

"_Beth, I'm leaving!" he called to her. Not waiting to see if she'd heard, he apparated._

_That night, when Tom arrived back home, he found Beth laying on the couch. She was not asleep, but she was staring at the ceiling in a bleary, transfixed gaze._

"_Beth . . ."_

_She jumped and then said, "Oh, Tom, it's just you!"_

_Tom raised his eyebrows and inquired why she expected someone else. _

"_Oh!" she turned over onto her stomach and rubbed her head with her hands. "I have had a horribly terrifying day. But I won't tell you about it!" She suddenly turned over and gave him a startled glance. "You wouldn't understand," she mumbled more to herself. "A man as systematic as yourself wouldn't understand . . ," her voice fell almost silent as she spoke. Next, she grabbed one of the pillows and stuffed it over her face in an anxious state._

_Tom stared at her, his mouth agape. He had never expected the horcrux to affect her this way - if it was the horcrux. There was nothing else Tom knew of that could conceivably affect her that way - except maybe alcohol._

_He sat down on the couch beside her and rubbed her back, hoping he wouldn't scare her._

"_Why don't you tell me about it. I might understand; I'd really like to know what happened," he coaxed her gently. He had never read about anything like this happening because of horcruxes; of course, the books only said so much._

"_You wouldn't understand!" she protested. "It's not scientific, it's not systematic, it's stupid!" she paused to catch her breath and then went on, "You'd think I'd been in the cooking sherry or that I had hit my head on something. You won't believe it . . ."_

"_I might…" he said slowly and carefully. He couldn't tell her why he was so interested - she'd never wear the thing again and she'd want to divorce him to-boot. "The magical world is a complex thing… there are a number of factors to be considered in why you are experiencing all this. I'm not a muggle… I might understand better than you think I would." He hoped he had been persuasive enough. For good measure, he added in one last thing, "I would hate for anything to happen to you because you didn't think I would understand…"_

_Beth swallowed and then said, "It wants me to cook you pheasant for dinner . . . it wants me to put on a cocktail dress . . . it wants me to . . . I don't want to listen to it! It's driving me crazy!!!!"_

"_It?! What?" Tom paused, his stomach growled slightly; he was hungry. "What's so bad about doing what it wants? And… what is… it?"_

"'_It' is the voice in my head! Ha, ha, ha . . . I'm crazy! Don't you just love it?!" she turned to face the wall. After a long pause, she turned back to face Tom. "I'm not really - I don't know what to do - what should I do? - how could I - what am I hearing? It's not my conscious - or maybe it is. That's what it is!" she let go of the pillow and seemed to relax a bit. "I just hear it periodically - it's gotten more - um - pushy the last few days. How is that now? Probably just another one of my faults. And I haven't even made dinner . . . No! I am not cooking pheasant! Not for you!" she looked up at the ceiling and shook her fist. Next, her expression faded to normal. "Oh, um - Tom, what do you want for dinner?"_

"_Pheasant," he said calmly. "Unless you are completely disagreeable to such an idea?" He looked calmly at her. He hated to test the waters like this… it probably wasn't very good on Beth - Slytherin's ring was obviously having a bad effect on her._

"_Pheasant? Pheasant?! is that a joke or something?! You think that's funny?!!!" she glared at him. "You can be such a terrible, horrible man sometimes! - I, I don't even think you care! I'm gonna cook some steak whether you like it or not!" _

"_Fine," Tom responded cooly. "It wasn't a joke, but if you wish to take it that way, than you are welcome to!" He sighed and sat down, reflecting on the effect the horcrux seemed to have on her. It made her a very angry and surprisingly disagreeable person. He had imagined that Slytherin's ring would make her more consenting to his will. However, she had only worn it for a few days; perhaps, in time, she would stop fighting it and, once she allowed herself to yield to it, things would work out like he had intended._

_Beth jumped up off the couch after a moment and then stood, irresolute in the middle of the living room. "I am thinking," she said, in answer to the face he made. "I'm thinking that we should go out to dinner - it would be different. Then, also, you can order some pheasant. Does that sound okay?"_

_Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That sounds just fine," he replied. _

_Beth nodded, "We could go to that italian restaurant down in Diagon Alley. I have only been there a few times - it's really nice. And it's not too fancy. But, I will want to change to one of my dresses before we go - I'll be right back." She smiled and then headed up the stairs._

_Tom could not decide whether he was pleased or not. Had she done what "he" wanted her to do? It was a compromise, yet it did get him what he wanted… and he got to eat food cooked by someone who (hopefully) knew what they were doing. He nodded slowly; this might just work._

_He paced about the room for several minutes, his mind wandering about. He decided that as long as he got what he wanted, it did not matter how or in what manner the act was done. In fact, this was actually a bit better than what he had originally intended. As long as she compromised, she would still fill that she had some control; this would mean that she would adjust and be easier to sway in the long-run. Besides, he did not want to control her totally, he now realized, because then he would be repeating his mother's sad story. She had used a love potion on his father. After a while, she had tired of his fake love for her. She took her spell off of him and he left her for good. No, this was definitely not something to be repeated._

_Tom heard the distant footsteps of his wife echoing down the stairs and then getting closer as she came down the hall. She entered the room, still putting on an earring._

_After she had completed this task, she automatically took Tom's arm and held on tightly in preparation for apparition. The world swirled around them and quickly they arrived in Diagon Alley. Beth let go of his arm and Tom posed the question, "So, where is this restaurant anyway?"_

_* * *_

_Later that night, they arrived back home; stuffed to overflowing with lasagna and garlic bread. Beth handed Tom the house-key, yawned, and told him she was ready for bed. Tom nodded, content with life at the moment, and wished her pleasant dreams._

"_Oh, and Beth, Darling," he stopped her half-way up the stairs._

"_Yes?"_

"_I was wondering - are you feeling better?"_

_She smiled, nodded, and then added, "I didn't hear a single voice the whole time."_

"_Maybe, then, the key is to listen to it and carry out it's orders," he commented._

_Beth laughed and went up the rest of the staircase._


	2. Chapter 2

Beth's chest rose and fell rhythmically as she slept. Tom looked down at her soft features. Every inch of her reminded him of the popular schoolgirl he'd "fallen in love with" not too long ago. He didn't really know why that time seemed so different than from the present. It wasn't even that long ago. But still, there had been something about her that had appealed to him then... He shook his head as he momentarily lacked the ability to conjure up the reasons for which he had been so intent on marrying her. Her physical appeal was obvious. He smiled goofily as his eyes roamed from the top of her head to the tips of her toes - well, the place under the covers where he supposed them to be anyway. She had such a spirit, though. Defiance; something he had never noticed in her when they had made-out in the darkest corners of Hogwarts. Tom paused to pay honor to those lovely memories. So that was it, then. He had married for looks, in-the-moment emotions, and any other reasons almost anyone would tell you not to marry for.

'And I wouldn't have it any other way,' he thought and smiled.

He approached the bed slipped the covers back so that her feet where uncovered. Then, bending over, he began to kiss the tips of her toes. Beth sighed and then sat up. "What are you doing?"

Tom stopped and looked up into her gorgeous hazel eyes. He grinned devilishly.

Beth laughed and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her brow. "You can be so silly sometimes. I dreamt that I was being attacked by a dog..."

"Weren't you, though?" he grinned once more.

Giggles emanated from Beth. Tom's face crinkled up in a sneaky smile.

"Is the bank open tonight?" he asked seriously, but his eyes were sparkling.

"What do you mean, Tom?" Beth asked, coyly aware that Tom's mind was not wandering far from where it had been a moment before. His eyebrows raised a little as he fought back a smile.

"I'd like to make a deposit."

"Hmmm...well, we it might be too late to make a deposit. Perhaps a withdrawal?"

Tom thought for a moment and then said, "a withdrawal?"

Beth nodded, "I'm pregnant."

Tom's head spun at that. He blinked a couple of times. "Okay...."

"Wonderful isn't it!" Beth was glowing with pride. "I was planning on telling you after dinner, but this is just as good a time as any. We'll have to talk about some plans - like the fact that we could use a bigger house...."

Tom felt all his dreams fall out from under him. Everything he had ever wanted was suddenly being crushed and consumed by diapers, toys, screaming babies... 'What the heck have I gotten myself into?' he thought wildly. 'Wait, don't be so hasty, Tom. First of all, there must be some way to blame her...' He watched her as she beamed and rambled about all those little baby things that "everyone" goes crazy over. 'It IS her fault. Her fault for... for... for being so darn sexy.' Having worked himself out of that part of the whole ordeal, Tom refocused on Beth.

"... and we could paint the room pink if it's a girl and blue if it's a boy! Or, OH! What about this? Green and yellow stripes! With... an animal theme!" She paused and looked wildly at Tom. "What do you think?"

Tom wavered for a moment, "Well, I... aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?"

"Oh, Tom! Always so practical! Well," she winked at him, "not always, I guess." She beamed again, then moved closer and gave him a kiss.

"You have work tomorrow, don't you?" she said on a suddenly.

"Well, yes," Tom responded slowly, not sure what that had to do with anything, but glad that it was a subject on which he could give an honest answer.

"You should get some rest. At this rate, I'm going to be up all night! I think I'll go make myself a snack!"

"Alright," Tom said, managing a smile.

Beth bounced off the bed and out of the room.

Tom sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe, he prayed, it was a mistake; there was some error responsible. Just as this thought appeared another idea struck him like a cold shower: he was acting like his father! Tom wanted to strike himself; that was not the manner he had intended to embrace. No, he wanted nothing to do with his father; not his looks, opinions, or behaviors.

Tom got up off the bed and headed for the kitchen. As he did so, he tried to conjure up positive thoughts. He would have a child to raise - someone with whom he could share his wisdom and skill. Someone he could mold to some benefit...

He came to the kitchen and found Beth munching some crackers. She looked up and smiled at him. "Do you want something?"

"Just to tell you that even though this is a shock... I wouldn't want to have a baby with anyone other that you."

"Aww..." Beth smiled and hugged him. "I'm just glad we agree on that."

Tom hugged her back trying to imagine life without her. It would be cold, career-focused... he mentally shuddered. Now, he'd no longer just have Beth to light up his life, but someone else, too. 'A son,' he thought proudly or maybe a sweet daughter. 'Much like her mother.' He smiled contentedly. This might not be so bad.

"What are you thinking?" Beth asked, smiling.

"Just how life can sometimes have things in mind that aren't what you planned, but can somehow turn out... better."

He remembered how he'd scoffed openly at the divination "professor" when he'd gone to school. In private, he'd tried to see so much more about his past than his future. He'd always thought that it was lineage and bloodlines that mattered. Perhaps it was time he put aside all the things that he though he was meant to be, and become what fate had carved out for him. Loving husband? It was working for him so far. Loving father? Why not?

*****

Several months later, Tom found himself staring down into a crib, in which lay his son, Salazar. Beth had objected to the name, but he had persuaded her in the end.

Salazar was asleep, as usual, and Tom was left with the the question of why he could sleep so well during the day and so terribly at night.

Beth had gone to visit with her parents and Tom was left alone for the first time with the baby - although, with how quiet the baby was, it seemed more like he was completely alone.

He exited the room as quietly as possible so as not to wake Salazar. The hallway that led to the staircase seemed especially dark and long. Tom began to hum a nonsensical tune to break the immense silence. His stomach growled loudly.

"Well I hope you're happy," he spoke to his stomach, "You have destroyed a perfectly good song." He laughed and shook his head. Talking to himself! He must look ridiculous.

Opening the cupboard, he searched for something to appease his rather opinionated stomach. Crackers? Boring. Pickles? No. Some wine?

"Definitely not when I'm the only adult in the house. I have to be responsible!"

After pouring a glass of milk, he made himself comfortable at the kitchen table.

Tom sat in his chair and began to imagine all the wonders of magic-made chocolate cookies. Besides, he already had the milk to dunk them in.

Tom reached into his pocket in order to retrieve his wand, but only found that it was missing.

Must have left it in Salazar's room...

He quietly started down the hall when he realized that he must have left it in the master bathroom; he had taken a shower just an hour previously.

It would be safe to assume that Tom's day went downhill from that very moment. He found a wand in the bathroom; the only problem was the fact that it was Beth's. She had accidently taken his with her when she had left the house.

Tom examined the wand and then tried to make a soap bar float. Nothing.

He knew it could not be lack of skill. It was clearly the wand that was the problem. To make sure, though, he aimed his wand at a spider in the far corner near the ceiling.

"Avada Kedra," he breathed.

Some sparks flew from the wand's end and an odd feeling creeped through his right arm. He dropped the wand warily.

'Shouldn't have tried THAT spell!' he mentally chastised himself. Just the same, he picked up the wand and dropped it into his pocket. Moving his arm about, he found that the odd feeling had left it. He decided to make his way back downstairs; cookies somewhat forgotten with the new problem at hand.

Tom rubbed his arm as he walked back towards the kitchen. It suddenly felt tingly as though he had touched an open electrical wire. He shook it and slowly his nerves recovered once again. Unusual. But, he should have figured that fact out prior to trying his luck. Beth was always talking about how she was no good at magic; it wasn't really her, it was her wand. Tom did not want a faulty wand in the house. He pulled it back out of his pocket and stared at it. It was made of good, solid oak, but it felt a bit wiry and it had some cracks along its length.

"We will just have to get a new one," Tom mumbled to himself.

He placed the wand on the kitchen table and then turned to head over to the nursery; Salazar, it appeared by the sound of a loud shriek, was done with his nap.

Upon entering the nursery, the screaming doubled as if Salazar felt it imperative to alert Tom that he was not fast enough.

"Hello," Tom said in as cheery a voice as he could muster while the loud protests were still wreaking havoc on his ear drums. 'Please nothing more than loneliness, crankiness, or hungriness,' Tom thought as he lifted Salazar out of his cradle. The crying ceased almost immediately leaving only the trace of tears as evidence to his previous outburst.

Tom made his way over to a nearby dresser.

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing to a photo sitting atop it. "Do you know who that is? Is it mommy? And Daddy?"

There was the distant sound of the doorbell.

"Who's that? Let's go see!"

Salazar gazed, wide-eyed, at his father for an instant and then averted his attention to the floor. He reached out his small arm and began to make small, protesting noises. Tom, shifted Salazar so that he would not drop him and began to head towards the front door. Salazar, realizing that his father was not going to comply with his request to be put down, began to howl.

"Shhhh...," Tom chided and patted his son on the back as he quickened his pace.

He reached the door and opened it. There, standing on the doorstep, was a man. He was slightly shorter than Tom and less handsome, but he was the same age.

Tom blinked and felt the blood rush to his face. The man said some greeting, but he could not hear it over the baby's crying.

Tom, feeling quite stupid, tried to gather his wits.

"Avery... Come on in..."

Avery bowed his head slightly as he entered and removed a rather garish-looking hat from his head.

"It is good to see you, Tom." The words did not match his tone.

"The pleasure is mine as well," Tom answered.

Salazar had quieted down and begun to stare intently at their guest.

"I," Avery glanced distractedly at Salazar before continuing, "I... how is Beth?"

"She's fine. Visiting the folks - my in-laws," he laughed tensely. There was silence for a long moment. "Avery, what are you here for?" Tom asked pointedly.

"Ah, yes, well..." He passed his hat from hand to hand. "The others. They want to... get together. They were wondering about, about your plans, Tom. They're beginning to think it was all talk. The things you said back in school -"

"They do remember what I did back in school don't they? The efforts I made to further us?" Tom's face had contorted into a look of anger. They were doubting him were they?

"They think," he hesitated slightly, "that perhaps you have... become distracted and neglected what is important to us all." He said the last part rather quickly and winced as though he had been slapped.

Tom's face was burning once again; although, not with embarrassment, but with anger.

Salazar began to whine and Tom placed him on the couch.

Avery averted his eyes to the ground and waited.

Tom paused and then replied, "If the others think this then let them all be given over to their petty misgivings. I have not changed my mind. You remind them, Avery, that plans are given according to my thoughts and timing is when I'm ready."

"Yes, sir... I will remind them. But..," Avery glanced sideways. "When?"

Tom glared. "As soon as I have the means to do so. I am gathering things together as we speak. I am setting up a lifestyle that the world cannot deny as honest and correct... Besides, what I do with my personal life is none of their..."

"Sir?"

Tom stopped abruptly and waited.

Avery licked his lips and then coughed. "I heard that Dumbledore is taking over for Dippet next year."

"What?!"

"D-dumbledore," he repeated nervously, as though he thought Tom might not have heard him.

Tom suddenly composed himself. His face became cool and serious.

"Well, Avery." His voice was calm, but strong. "Thank you for delivering this information to me." He edged Avery toward the door and over the threshold. "I will be sure to consider it... carefully." The door closed swiftly in Avery face.

"Well," Tom turned to face the room at large. "We'll have to see what is to be done about dear old Dumbledore, as well as my colleagues." The last word he spat out maliciously as though it had an unpleasant taste. "First things first. Keep your faithless followers close and your enemies - that's you, Dumbledore - closer." He strode up the stairs to retrieve his cloak.

He was just examining himself in the full-length mirror when Salazar's loud howl could be heard.

Tom rushed downstairs, forgetting his anger for an instant and retrieved his son from the living room couch. Salazar quieted down immediately even though tears continued to fall from his soft blue eyes. Tom sighed deeply and then remarked aloud, "What am I supposed to do now?"

Salazar stared at his father and then transformed his face into a slobbery grin. Tom felt his anger lessen at that. "Alright, I'll just have to take you with me..," he paused, knowing that that was not really an option. "Okay.., I'll take you over to visit your grandparents. I know your mother is there... and they'll all be overjoyed to see you. I'll just have to tell Beth that it's an emergency and that I must attend to some business..."

*****

At first, Beth was frightened at his sudden appearance, sure that he had come because some life-threatening emergency. However, it was quickly decided that both Tom and Salazar were in fine physical condition. Beth's mother quickly decided that the two of them had been suffering from loneliness and missing "Mummy."

"Actually," Tom said, arm resting around Beth's shoulders, "it turns out that Mr. Borgan needs me to take over for another employee - said something about family issues. I really must make myself present." He paused. "Oh, Beth, darling, could I see you outside for a moment."

Beth's mother winked and smiled widely, nudging her husband as if to say, "Can't stand a moment away from each other!"

Once outside, he turned to face her.

"You took my wand and left me yours by mistake."

"Did you bring it?"

"No. I left it on the kitchen table..."

Beth's eyes widened, "You left it?"

"For good reason, which I will explain later... I'm in sort of a hurry, Beth; can you give me my wand?"

"Alright, here," she handed it over and than added, "Sorry that I got them mixed up."

Tom shrugged his shoulders as if to say 'these things happen to the best of us.'

"Well, you better get moving. I wish you could stay." She walked her husband to the door and gave him a kiss on the cheek before he apperated, leaving her behind.

*****

Tom arrived outside the Hogwarts' grounds seconds later. He looked ahead and saw the old castle in all its cold, stony glory. He sighed and a grin spread across his face. Home again at last...

He headed up the cobblestone path with all the dignity and purpose of a prince returning from battle. The grounds seemed void of existence. Reaching into his vest pocket, he removed a gold timepiece. Five twenty seven, it read. Everyone was probably gathered in the Great Hall awaiting their dinner-time feast.

As he neared the large wooden doors, he let his mind wander back to his school-boy days. Top of his class. Prefect. Head boy. A mere dream in most girls' hearts. He smiled at that thought. Yes, there was a time when he could have his choice of companions - of all kinds.

His hand rested on the large brass handle. He pulled and it swung back on it's hinges without so much as a creak. After a moment of re-orienting himself, he walked several paces and turned down a large empty corridor. Everything looked the same. In the firelight flicker everything felt right. A place of knowledge. Books at his disposal to read whenever he wanted.

He felt a tad guilty - Beth and Salazar were his life now! What was he doing here?

'Something I have planned to do since before Salazar came into existence and before Beth became the object of my affection.'

After several minutes, he found himself standing before a large spiral staircase. This was it.

Headmaster Dippet was situated behind his desk and was in the process of completing some sort of writing task when Tom knocked at the door.

"Come in."

Tom opened the door, entered the ornate office, and approached the desk.

"Sir, I am Tom Riddle... You may remember me, Sir... I left Hogwarts just two years previously..."

Professor Dippet's eyes lit up and, grabbing ahold of Tom's arm, gave it a hearty shake. "Of course I remember you, Riddle... Or, I mean, Mr. Riddle! How could the school forget you," he smiled.

Tom, wishing to get down to business spoke up, "I heard that you are planning to retire soon, Sir. I heard that Professor Dumbledore will be taking your place... I am sorry to hear that you are retiring."

"Thank you, but really, I am ready to leave this school - not that I hate it here - but, I have wanted to travel a bit; you know, see the world."

"Of course."

"So, I am retiring."

"Well, at least someone is taking your place... who deserves it."

"Yes, yes, thank you."

Tom now saw that it was time to express his real reason for being there. He cleared his throat, put on his most winning expression, and began, "Sir? I was wondering whether or not you have found someone to take Dumbledore's place?"

"We are currently in the preparatory stages of interviewing candidates. In other words, we are taking names, uh, if you... might," a smile crossed his face, "have anyone... to... suggest?"

"Well, sir," Tom had to contain himself from smiling. It seemed clear to him that Professor Dippet was not opposed to Tom and was almost suggesting that he recommend himself. He continued boldly, "I was thinking I might take the position as transfiguration professor." He held his chin high - an air of confidence had always led him well.

"You do understand that an interview would be necessary?" Dippet requested as though he was measuring Tom's interest.

"Yes, sir."

"And that you must have just as equal a chance as all the other candidates?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"And perhaps someone may come along with better qualifications... more experience..."

"If I may, Sir, I do believe that I posses the dedication and the qualifications to teach at this school. Anything I may lack in experience can and will be made up for by my intense effort to teach at the best of my abilities."

"Well, then, Mr. Riddle," Dippet spoke with a gleam in his eye and corners of his mouth slightly upturned. "I shall expect your formal interview tomorrow around," he paused to consult a day-planner nearby, "nine forty-five?"

"I will be here promptly, sir."

"Off the record, Tom," Dippet took on a more conversational tone, "I don't suppose you have continued to do all that immense studying? You have a wife now, do you not?"

"I do have a wife, Sir, and a son. However, I find few things grant me more pleasure than continuing my studies, though I now completed my necessary education."

"Ah, welcome back, Tom." Dippet extended his hand and Tom took it in a firm grip.

A few minutes and several hearty laughs later, he found himself outside Dippet's office with new spring in his step.

****

Tom arrived back at home to find his wife bent over the kitchen counter.

"Hello, Beth," he greeted her warmly with a kiss on the neck.

"Tom?! I have been so worried - and angry!" she slapped him on the arm. "I went down to Diagon Alley to get some groceries and I decided to wander on by Borgin's. He said that he never asked you to show up today. What is the matter with you?!" her teeth were clenched and her eyes where narrowed.

Tom was stunned at her demeanor. It reminded him of his mother-in-law when she would get angry. He tried to block this thought from his mind and replied, "I'm sorry. I..."

She cut him off, "You leave me at my parents house, with our son, and go galavanting off to wherever - without telling me?! You could have gone missing, been hurt... I visited Avery, but he said he hadn't seen you..."

Tom was shocked, "You talked to Avery?"

Beth stopped abruptly and bit her lip, "Yes."

"How do you know about Avery?"

Tom's mind was racing. They had, of course, been school chums, but was it really possible that Beth remembered?

"I asked you first." Beth crossed her arms with no-nonsense look on her face.

"Alright then," Tom said, appeasing her for the moment, "if you must know, I... I find my job at Borgin and Burkes to be... tiresome and... and it lacks a high income. I have asked Borgin numerous times for a raise; even Burkes, but to no avail. I went in search of a new job. One that would make both my wife and my new son proud of me as well as provide for them aptly. I spoke to the Hogwarts headmaster about a job. I want to teach transfiguration." He ended boldly, yet bowed his head humbly before continuing. "But I should have been honest with you."

Beth stood silent for a moment. Tom knew that she was weighing all her possible responses. Marriage was a game after all. The object of the game was to wield as much power as possible over the other partner while still being considered the good samaritan.

Beth opened her mouth to speak, but Tom spoke first.

"You never did answer my question, darling," he smiled innocently, though his eyes sparkled challengingly, "what about Avery?"

"I dated Avery for a while back in my fourth year at Hogwarts and I know that he's your friend. I thought that maybe you were over at his place or that he might know how to best reach you. Besides, I always figure that you might tell your friends things that you would never tell me. Don't get me wrong! I do respect that; some things are your business only..."

Tom was taken aback by her reaction. She was being understanding? She wasn't angry after all? He tried to understand what this could mean. Perhaps she told her friends things that she would never tell him; it is a two-way street after all.

"I guess there is nothing to get worked up over, then?" Tom questioned, still trying to be cautious.

"Well, it's a fact of life, isn't it? I mean I tell you things that are important and tell my friends about nit-picky things. You know, like how you snore in your sleep or how I decided to try a new dish soap..."

"Alright, so you don't mind me looking for other work."

Beth bit her lip, "You know that I didn't like school that much. But you like it and I guess that's fine. As long as I don't have to take any exams."

Tom's mouth curved into a grin, "But you must."

"I must?"

"There is an entrance exam."

"Really?"

Tom nodded and then continued, "I'll have to frisk you; security reasons..."

Beth smiled, "And I suppose that I will have to do the same?"

"Not unless you feel that you must."


	3. Chapter 3

Tom grinned as he again exited the headmaster's office. Dippet had practically handed him the job. Of course, Tom was no slacker! It was necessary that he prove his qualifications; it was an interview, after all. The professor couldn't have helped but been bedazzled by his impressive transfiguration spell work.

"Don't owl us, we'll owl you," the old headmaster had joked with a gleam in his eye as he led Tom to the door.

Perhaps he was getting a bit ahead of himself, but instead of taking his usual route that led to the outside of the school, Tom took a different path - one that would lead him to the transfiguration classroom... and his "future" office. Still, Dippet had not given him a straight 'yes' that he had gotten the job, but Tom was left with little doubt.

He would once again be wondering these halls every day for the next nine months starting September! It was glorious! A stray first-year passed by him.

'Probably lost,' Tom thought. His mind wandered back to his first year at Hogwarts; getting lost, nearly falling off the moving staircases, outshining all the other students - but that was every year! Tom chuckled.

A moment later, he found himself standing in front of the same old wooden door he had entered frequently throughout his schooling years. He opened it slowly, savoring the moment. Peaking in, he found it to be empty. He boldly entered. Quickly locating his old seat, he sat in it just for nostalgia's sake. Swiftly, though, he left it and stood at the place he had seen Professor Dumbledore teach from for years.

He mentally addressed his imaginary students, 'I am Professor Tom Marvolo Riddle,' he liked the sound of that, 'I will be instructing you in the art of transfiguration...' He continued on for several minutes only to find his thoughts interrupted by the sound of a door opening behind him. He turned.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore. Or, should I say, Headmaster?" Tom said politely.

Dumbledore did not look surprised, but he did peer at Tom over his spectacles. "Hello, Tom. I might as well be honest and say that I was beginning to wonder what had become of you."

Tom raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, I expected that you would return, sooner or later. And I did not expect the latter," he sounded a bit tired, but he smiled just the same.

"Yes, I interviewed for the transfiguration job. I suppose that you knew that?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Would you like a glass of wine?"

"No, thank you, Sir. I was just leaving. I need to get back home. My wife will be expecting me..."

"You are married, Tom? I had not heard that."

"Yes, Sir. And I have a son now. I really must be going."

Dumbledore looked a little disappointed. He added, "I suppose that we can have a proper chat sometime?"

Tom answered in the positive and then left the office, feeling very pensive. He wondered whether he should have stuck around and made a better impression on the future Headmaster. Regretfully, Tom considered, he could have a big part in the decision of who would fill his position.

*****

Several days later, Tom found himself in Macnair's living room. He paced in a circle, staring at the floor. Occasionally, he would glance up at one of the many that surrounded him. Shuffling sounds were emitted occasionally by some in the group, but no one dared to yawn. Finally, Tom addressed them.

"Not more than a fortnight ago, Avery stood before me at my door." He paused. "He came to me with a message from some of my dear old school chums." He paused and looked at everyone in term before continuing. "You. All of you had sent him with your concerns. Your doubts. Your accusations." The whole room was filled with an icy silence. Fear hung in the air. "I was ignoring my duties, you said. Not being loyal to you. Becoming consumed by things less important." He glared around the room. "In truth it was you, who were being negligent." His voice had lowered to a commanding whisper. "Every thought, every action, every decision - I considered my faithless followers before I did any of the things I did. And this is how you decide to treat me? I find fearful, sniveling, and pouty followers ready to turn-tail and run!" He glared around the room.

A female cry came from behind him and the sound of someone dropping at his feet.

"Bellatrix." Tom addressed her curtly.

"Oh, Sir!" she cried, "I had nothing to do with it... nothing! I said not a word. I never even heard of Avery's assignment. I SWEAR!!" Tears glistened on her ruby cheeks and she was trembling violently.

Tom felt a ting of amusement at her state. He addressed the group, "See here, this is a true follower... she is telling the truth." He gazed about the room as Bellatrix arose from the ground, whispering feverous thanks. Tom continued, "I gather that not all the group was involved, but that does not mean that some punishment is not due..." He paused for embellishment and then said, "Knott, Macnair, and Avery - Come forward!"

The three men went pale instantly, but they obeyed and approached their leader.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Macnair and Knott were splayed out the carpet, eyes still wide with horror.

Avery backed away instantly and cowered in the corner of the room. Tom nodded at him in a curt manner and then replied, "I have a problem, Avery."

"What, Sir?" Avery's voice cracked and he coughed a couple of times.

"Avery, my wife tells me that you dated back at school..."

"Y-yes, sir." He flinched.

"And?"

"A-and..." Avery's voice faded away as his mind whirled with activity. "It was only for a short while-"

"Liar!" breathed Tom.

"Please, Lord Voldemort," he spoke, addressing him by his honorific, "let me say more."

Tom inclined his head, eyebrows raise and eyes squinted. "Why did it end?"

"She, she met someone... someone else. Someone better!"

"Liar!" Tom spoke again. "You would do well not to embellish or change the truth. You're life is in my hands and I don't approve of dishonesty."

Avery was shaking now. The sweat that rolled down his forehead combined with the tears that fell from his eyes. "It was just a small crush - hardly a relationship-"

"How well do you know her, Avery?"

"Outside of the other day, I haven't spoken to her in-"

"I asked, how well do you know her?!"

"We, n-nothing ever happened. Nothing noteworthy-"

Tom cut him off. "Let it be known before all of you this day that I have looked into Avery's mind. I have found him to be a very good example to you all," Tom smiled wickedly, letting the group wait expectantly for him to continue, "of what a bad follower is. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Avery's body hit the floor. Nothing was heard except a few short gasps from onlookers and the fearful sobs of Bellatrix.

Tom looked around at the group uninterestedly. "Now, we can finally proceed with business."

*****

Beth was feeling very stir-crazy and had been for some time. She was anxious for Tom to get home. When she heard the lock click she sprang off the couch and bounded towards the door, Salazar in her arms.

"Oh, Tom!" she cried and hugged him tightly. "You will be so thrilled!" she leg go and then looked straight at him, joy etched in every feature of her face. "Salazar said 'daddy'!"

Tom, who had felt a twinge moody for the last hour, tried to look enthralled. "Really?"

"Yes! At least, I think that's what he said… It doesn't matter. I poured a bit of wine to celebrate. Here, you hold him while I go get the glasses…"

"Hold on," Tom raised his voice, a bit louder than he had intended.

"Yes?" Beth's smile melted and she began to look worried.

"I just wanted to mention that I got the job at Hogwarts. We will be leaving in a couple of weeks."

"Oh, that's all… I was worried that something dreadful had happened! Well, all the more reason to celebrate. Congratulations, that's just marvelous! I'll be right back!"

Tom sat down on the couch and tried to lighten his spirits by levitating the lamp and watching Salazar giggle with astonishment at such a simple trick. Salazar smiled and mumbled a few incoherent words. He reached out and tried to grab Tom's wand. Tom, feeling a bit better, grabbed his tiny hand. He placed it so that it grasped the wand. Then, he placed his hand over his son's and pointed it at a book lying on the coffee table. He said a few words and the book hurled itself into the fire that had been lit on the hearth. Salazar looked up at his father, an expression of surprise in his wide eyes. Tom smiled and sent the book back to rest on the coffee table.

Beth returned with the wine. Smiling, she sat down next to Tom.

"To things the way they should be," offered Tom, lifting his glass. Beth's glass met his with a light clink sound. As Tom took a sip of his wine, Salazar once again grabbed at Tom's wand.

"No, no," Beth chided, brushing aside his little hand, "Daddy's wand."

At that, Salazar seemed content to sit back and yawn.

A cozy silence filled the room. The wine was dulling the unpleasant events from his mind and leaving him with a warm contentment.

Beth, seizing the opportunity, began to recount all the events that had led up to Salazar's happy proclamation. Tom listened peacefully, laughing with her at the cute things, consoling her at the part where he'd gotten a pea stuck up his nose, and even letting a tear fall at the more detailed recollection of Salazar's pronunciation of "Daddy."

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud crash as a vase across the room fell and shattered on the floor. At the noise, both Beth and Tom jumped. Salazar began to howl unhappily and dropped Tom's wand which he had grabbed while Beth was recounting her tale.

Tom, realizing what had happened, began to laugh. He hugged Salazar to him, trying to comfort his frightened son. Beth's hand was resting over her heart as if she was trying to keep it from beating out of her chest.

"Salazar, you naughty boy!" She managed to mutter. She then addressed Tom, "I really don't know why he has such a fascination with your wand."

"Neither do I," said Tom, guardedly. With a wave of his newly recovered wand, he cleaned up the broken vase. Tom gave a Salazar a look as if to say, "You're going to get both of us in trouble."

Beth spoke up, "I really should put him down for bed." She lifted Salazar out of Tom's arms and ascended the stairs. Tom took another sip of wine and decided that the day had not turned out as badly as it could have. He set down his glass and tip-toed up the stairs. On passing the nursery, he paused for a moment. Beth was sitting in the rocking chair and singing to Salazar with a low, soft voice.

"Hush little baby; don't say a word. Momma's gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird won't sing, Mamma's gonna buy you a diamond ring…"She hummed the next few bars and then stopped.

Tom looked on and felt a tear run down his face. That was the childhood that he never had. No mother to comfort him, no mother to give him love, no mother to teach him… Tom felt a bit lonely for an instant. He had felt that way during his years at the orphanage, but the feeling had disappeared during his stay at Hogwarts, or so he had believed. Now, he was aware of the hole in his heart. His chest seemed tight and his mouth was dry.

Tom turned away and went into the master bedroom. He sat down upon the bed and realized that he had a slight headache. Beth appeared an instant later and shut the door behind herself.

"Salazar is completely out," she spoke quietly.

"Beth?"

"Yes?"

"Never mind," Tom rubbed his eyes.

"Is there something wrong?"

"I don't feel very good, that's all."

"Headache?" Beth questioned, noting the way Tom was rubbing his forehead.

"Slight one."

"Won't it be great working at Hogwarts? You will simply love it and I'll enjoy seeing you so much more happy," Beth smiled and ran her fingers through her husband's hair. She kissed him upon the cheek and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Tom began to undress. He was slower about it than usual because his head was swimming. He pulled off his tie and thought about Avery, he unbuttoned his shirt and questioned why Beth had dated such a prig, he pulled off his pants and wondered at the abilities of his son, he slipped out of his shoes and socks and reviled in the sweetness of Beth, and he donned his night things while concluding that his wife and he had a very special relationship; she loved him and he loved her. Nothing was going to change that. In fact, he realized, she surely loved him far more than any mother would love her children.

Beth came back out, her hair falling down on her shoulders. She climbed into bed beside Tom and turned off the light.

"I love you," she whispered in the darkness.

"I love you, too," Tom replied and meant it.

*****

"AAAARRRRGGGGG!!"

Tom jumped up from the bed and rushed down the stairs. There was a pause and then the sound of Beth shrieking. Tom ran into the kitchen and found his wife curled up on the floor clutching a hand-towel, a look of pain creasing her face. Salazar was across the room crying loudly, his father's wand beside him.

"Tom!" cried Beth. "Tom, Tom, Tom!"

He came to her side and knelt down on the floor. "What's the matter?" he could think of nothing else to say at the moment.

Beth swallowed and shut her eyes tight. She took several quick breaths and then said, "Salazar… wand…"

"Yes, yes..," Tom was getting impatient and a bit frightened at his wife's demeanor. "What is it?!"

Beth could no longer speak; she was shaking too violently. But, she immediately flung the hand-towel onto the floor.

The sight disgusted Tom. Not because he was unused to blood, but because it was not becoming on those that he held in high regard.

When Tom saw Beth's wrist, bleeding violently and missing her left hand, he cussed loudly.

Beth's eyes widened, but that was the only thing she was capable of doing. She grabbed at Tom with her right hand in panic.

Tom looked at her and took hold of her hand. He grasped it tightly and tried to focus all his attention on the one thing that was really important. "St. Mungo's." he whispered under his breath and away they disappeared.

At St. Mungo's, Beth was quickly removed from Tom's sight. At first, he explained all that he knew of what had occurred to one of the healers, but, not aware of the whole story, he was soon left to mull over his own thoughts in the waiting room. Before long, however, it was apparent that his mind was leading him to things he would rather not think about.

'This might not have happened,' he thought, 'if I hadn't encouraged him.' Him. Salazar.

Tom brought his hand up to his forehead and struck himself hard, swearing under his breath. He had left Salazar at the house.

'...with my wand,' he realized, practically melting under the thought. Beth probably hadn't noticed in the rush of things either - it was an emergency after all. But, he was aware that in any situation where one of them was unable to take care of Salazar, the responsibility fell upon the other. He had failed and must right his mistake.

When he reappeared in the house, he found Salazar in much the same condition that he had been left in. The wand was sitting where he had hurled it to in his fright; slightly out of his reach. At the touch of Tom, he stopped screaming and settled on a weak, tearful, whimper.

Once they were both sitting in the waiting room at St. Mungo's, Tom looked at Salazar. He was perfectly innocent. No child would intentionally hurt his mother; not without being insane or just flat-out consumed by evil. This was not the case with Salazar. Tom had simply made wands look too much like a toy. He remembered his first year at Hogwarts. There was no doubt in his mind that he had abused his newly-confirmed power. Even still, he twisted magic to feed his own shallow desires. His thoughts wandered to Salazar Slytherin's ring. The one he had given his wife to wear… 'in the hopes that I could exercise power and influence over her,' he thought, ashamedly.

No son of his would grow up to be like him. Or, better yet, he would turn himself into someone that his son should and could grow up to be like. From now on, wands weren't toys. They weren't even a right, but a privilege.

'It is an honor that I should be a wizard, therefore, I and my family should uphold that honor,' he decided. This had always been his want and goal, but he found that his definition of maintaining that integrity seemed to be ever changing. He almost didn't know what he wanted anymore. 'But I do know what is important, and that is my wife and son.'

Tom felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned to find a smiling healer who couldn't be more than a year older than himself. He quickly read her name tag and remembered; Courtney Ulner. 'Oh, yes,' he thought to himself. 'Ravenclaw."

"Mr. Riddle?" she questioned.

"Yes."

She paused, "I remember you! You were the one who won that award. You captured that monster or whatever."

Tom raised one eyebrow, "You were saying?"

"Oh, well, we are not sure what spell it was that caused this problem, but we've stopped the bleeding and are trying to figure out what to do now. We gave her a sleeping drought and she is quite comfortable for the time being. Healer Zealman is looking at her right now. Do you want to come back and talk to him?"

Tom nodded and followed Courtney into a hallway. "He's gonna want to hear as much about the situation as you possibly can give. Do you have the wand?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Good. He'll just need to see if he can find out what last spell it was used for. Your wife was really upset when we got the blood to clot. She said she was left handed and could not go through life without a hand. I understand. But, don't worry! We'll do whatever we can. Here's the elevator. We're going up to the eighth floor. Is that your son? He's just adorable!"

Tom was becoming increasingly bored with the conversation. He tried to listen until something occurred to him that worried him a bit. Her left hand; it was the one on which she had worn Slytherin's ring! That too had disappeared! "You can easily reverse the spell, right?" Tom questioned.

Courtney nodded, "Once we know the spell, we can perform the counter-spell."

"Every time?"

"Most of the time. Some counter-spells, as you would know, have not been discovered yet. But, Healer Zealman has seen cases like this before. No worries!"

Tom and Courtney entered a large room full of beds and a corresponding number of patients. It took a moment before he located his wife and the healer out of the rest. All eyes had turned to him when he entered and he was suddenly acutely aware of his attire. His hair was still tousled from the previous nights sleep and his face was unshaven. He wore slippers and his robe (thankfully) prevented everyone from seeing his boxer shorts and lack of shirt. He subconsciously tugged the robe a little tighter around him.

Noticing that Beth was sitting up in one of the beds, he walked closer to her and placed an arm around her shoulders. Salazar let out a small cry and extended his arms in her direction. Beth reached up and took Salazar from Tom's other arm.

Tom looked at the healer expectantly. He was a sleepy-looking wizard with small blue eyes and frizzy, white hair except for on the top of his head where none grew.

"Your wife is going to be fine," he addressed Tom who nodded and waited patiently to continue, "I trust that Courtney has informed you of Beth's basic status," at another nod from Tom, he continued, "Do you have the wand?"

Tom pulled it from his pocket and handed it to the healer. He accepted it with a slight bowing of his head and proceeded to examine the outside of it, careful not to point it in anyone's direction, including his own.

"There aren't any cracks in it," he observed aloud. "What exactly happened?"

Tom looked at Beth who spoke, "I was preparing breakfast at the time and didn't see how it happened." She looked up at Tom.

"I had been in bed," the healer, Beth, Courtney, and a few patients nodded at this and he again became self-conscious of his apparel, "and I heard her yell. When I arrived downstairs, she was gripping her wrist which was bleeding and our son Salazar was sitting next to the wand."

The healer nodded. "I'll just take this into the other room. If you will wait here."

They nodded and Healer Zealman exited the room.

Beth turned to Tom and gave a small smile. "Glad I'm the good-looking one in the room," she explained.

"You want me to take Salazar back now? I mean, you don't look very comfortable."

"It's really hard to hold something when you only have one hand," she remarked and Tom took the baby. "I hope I can leave soon," she continued. "I hope I haven't scarred Salazar for life! It's a bit grotesque isn't it. I can't look at it or else I get nauseated. I was told that that is normal. You can go home and change if you want to."

Tom shook his head and began to walk away.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Tom peered through the small window in the door. "I just don't like strangers touching my wand."

"Of course!" Beth nodded in agreement.

The door opened and Tom leapt aside. Healer Zealman looked a bit worried. Beth sensed this and her eyes widened.

"What is it?" asked Tom.

Healer Zealman stared at the wand for a moment and then shook his head, "Nothing; We have a counter-spell. There is just one other thing. I got some very horrifying spells from your wand, Mr. Riddle. I do not want to call in the aurors. Could you explain why there are three…" He paused.

Tom spoke up immediately, "I had misplaced my wand on the previous day. I work in Knockturn Alley. I lost it while on business. Someone else must have used it for who-knows-what. I am sorry. I will take it down to the Ministry as soon as possible."

Zealman's face changed to one of relief, "I figured so, Mr. Riddle. Here's your wand. If you would go back down to the waiting room, I can commence with the counter-spell. Your wife should be down shortly.

Tom headed for the door, but as he left he caught Beth's eye; she looked a bit pale, but she did give him one last smile.

Tom sighed both mentally and physically as he entered the hall. THAT was close. Too close. He looked down at Salazar. The contemptuous look that his face had taken disappeared and he smiled tiredly.

"You," he whispered, "are more trouble than you look."

Catching his own ruddy reflection in a glass door he thought, 'And so are you.'

In the past couple of days he had not only killed three people, but he had also jeopardized his family, his career, and basically his whole life.

'I could have ended up in Azkaban!' he thought mournfully.

Salazar was beginning to get fussy at his lack of breakfast and Tom averted his path to one which led him to the cafeteria.

Trying to feed Salazar some peaches that he had mushed into an unrecognizable state proved helpful. It focused his mind and allowed him to think more clearly.

By the time he had begun to wander back towards the waiting room, Beth was already signing several papers at the desk. Tom walked over to her and Salazar let out a small greeting.

"Ready to go home?" he asked softly.

"Yes, I'm ready," she responded.

A moment later, all three of them were back in the kitchen.

Beth busied herself restarting her breakfast preparations, but Tom became lost in a kerfuffle of feathers. With one arm he warded off the attack still gripping Salazar with the other.

"Beth!" he cried irritably.

She began to laugh and took Salazar off his hands.

The owl calmed down, realizing it had indeed become the focus of Tom's attention, allowing him to take the letter that was clutched in his beak.

Tom skimmed it quickly, his eyebrows becoming more knitted with ever word. At one point, he glanced up at the clock on the wall before looking back down at the letter. Putting it down once his eyes had reached the bottom, he glared at the owl. It looked back at him haughtily and flew out the window.

"What is it?" Beth asked trying not to laugh at Tom's expression or let her fearful imagination get the best of her.

"It's from Borgan," then added, "And Burke." He rolled his eyes. "They 'wish to inform' me that I am late. And that they 'will not tolerate it again.' And they wish to irritate me!" he shouted childishly sitting down at the dining table to pout.

"But you aren't fired?" Beth asked carefully.

"No, but that's not the point! I-"

"It doesn't matter," Beth cut him off, coming over to rub his shoulders. "Tell you what, I'll send him a letter myself explaining what happened. You just go get dressed and breakfast will be waiting when you come back down."

Tom nodded sulkily and made his way back up the stairs.

At the landing, he paused and called back down, "You don't have to worry about work, Beth. We will be leaving for Hogwarts in two weeks."

"You're right!" she called back after him.

Tom went into the bedroom and began to get dressed. It would be good to get her mind on moving preparations and off of him for a while. Besides, surely she did not question his explanation. He had been at work that previous day; he could have easily lost his wand and had, carelessly, forgotten to mention so over dinner. He didn't need to tell her everything; she had even told him so once. It was stupid of him to worry about it. After all, he needed to appear unflustered.

During the last part of his mental wanderings, Tom had been tying his shoes. He now looked down and found that he was wearing two different pairs.

"Gosh!" he spoke aloud and began to take off the one on his left foot.

*****

When Tom came back into the kitchen a minute later, he found Beth staring at the newspaper. Her face was screwed in disbelief.

He approached her and she spoke. "Tom, you should read this. Avery died; apparently two days ago. I know he was a good friend of yours… they won't say how it happened."

"Well, you were close to him, too."

"I guess we sort-of were… I mean, we dated for a year and he even proposed to me… I told him 'no' because I was in love with you. I never felt the same way about him… he was just always a friend. Although, we haven't kept in complete touch…"

Tom recalled several smatterings that he had found while probing Avery's mind shortly before his death. Avery laughing with his arm around Beth. Beth racing Avery somewhere. Avery cornering Beth in one of the dungeons… her giggling… him leaning in toward her…

"Tom?" Beth looked at him worriedly, "Are you upset?"

Realizing that his face had taken on a scornful appearance, he responded, "It just isn't right that's all." He let his face relax into indifference and cleared Avery's memories from his head. "Can we not talk about Avery?"

"Alright."

He knew he was worrying her.

He settled in a chair and took a sip of his coffee. He began to pass it back to Beth out of habit - her coffee was never good. Today, however, there was something different. He pulled it back from her grip and took another cautious sip. Then, boldly, he took another swallow.

"Beth," a look of wonder crossed his face, "this tastes… good!"

Beth obviously was caught off guard and a little speechless.

Getting out of his chair, he wrapped his arms around her and, forehead to forehead, looked down into her eyes.

"How did you do it?"

Beth giggled, "I just… I don't know. Practice makes perfect." She shrugged her shoulders.

Leaning in he gave her a big kiss. Beth seemed to be expecting another to follow, but he broke the embrace and moved toward the table.

"That's all?" Beth asked, sounding surprised.

"You don't think that the first day you make a good cup of coffee I'm going to let it get cold?" He laughed and took another sip.

Beth hit him lightly with a dishtowel and they both laughed.

Tom swallowed a bit more of the coffee and changed the subject. "I guess we will need to start packing soon," he commented.

Beth made a disgusted face and replied, "Yes, but I'm not looking forward to it. Are they literally going to house us somewhere in the school?"

Tom shook his head, "Hogsmead."

"Yes, that makes since. So, we need to be looking for another house?"

"Possibly rent one for the time being."

Beth nodded. "I just wish the school was closer to my folks…"

"Floo powder doesn't take very long, nor does apparating," Tom poured himself another cup of coffee.

"Your right. I just always think of cars and buses."

Tom made a face, "Why do those things even come into your head?!"

Beth went silent, "I don't know… I guess I read too much."

A few minutes of silence elapsed. Beth went about doing the dishes. After a while, she spoke.

"I have been feeling much better this morning than I have in a while."

Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise, "You haven't been feeling well?"

"Not for a while. Nerves or something. I think I'm finally starting to get really used to this life."

"What do you mean? Are you feeling sick or…"

"You know how I used to hear voices? Well, they haven't been bothering me lately. I feel more like my old self. I told my mom about the voices and she said that maybe I was psychic or something. But, apparently I just lost that ability. I was starting to believe that because any time it started up," she gazed over at her husband, "you would get upset or have some sort of a mood."

Tom's heart had stopped - or at least it seemed so. Slytherin's ring! He tried to calm himself. After all, he couldn't bring it up out of the blue. She might put two and two together. Either way, it must be at St. Mungo's.

"That's very preposterous," he remarked. He looked at his coffee suddenly having lost his taste for it. As if he needed the caffeine. His heart beat as though he'd been running a marathon.

"It occurs to me, darling," he tried to avoid looking at her; his eyes were shining wildly, but he couldn't clear the look no matter how hard he tried, "that since we are moving, we might need some boxes… and… and some tape. I think I shall go find… go buy some."

He got up stiffly from the chair in which he had been sitting.

Beth looked at him, perplexed and anxious.

"Tom, I-"

He gave her a peck on the cheek and apperated out of sight.

He appeared in a narrow street lined with cramped little houses. He didn't know what had made him come here. All he knew was, he had to have somewhere to think; to work out a plan. His eyes searched the little houses. He nearly missed the one he was looking for. It lacked the wind chimes and yard sculptures it had once been home to. He could see there was now a gnome infestation, though, and that was a comfort of sorts. He walked up to the front door. It was obvious that no one was currently residing there, but he was just a bit curious…

'They're still there,' he thought, referring to the garish curtains that had hung in the windows the last time he'd visited Hepzibah Smith. She had been the source of his many "trinkets" as she would have called them. To him they were invaluable treasures; links to the family he had desired to know about.

He tried the door knob.

'Locked,' he decided.

"Alohomora," he recited a first-year spell that he had found quite handy throughout his years wandering the Hogwarts corridors. The knob turned freely now. Entering into the once crowded sitting room, he found it to be empty and dusty. It was the perfect place for some thinking. There was even a cardboard box for him to sit on.

'At least,' he joked to himself, 'I'll have some evidence for Beth. I did say I would bring back a box.'

Settling down on it, he began to think.

'So the ring is probably at St. Mungo's. It could have gotten lost. They forgot to give it back… Or someone might have stolen it. I could go ask if they still have it. I already looked a bit suspicious in front of them, though… I could disguise myself and sneak about the place…'

He considered all his possibilities for many long minutes. Finally, he stood up, having worked out a fitting plan.

Tom left the house and walked down the road. Several people stared at him; this perplexed him until he realized that they must be gawking at his robes. He began to ignore them as he went on. Besides, there were more pressing issues.

In all his many years of life, Tom had never once used a telephone. He eyed the red booth with scorn before entering and shutting the door behind himself. It was not a question of whether or not he knew how to use it, but whether or not he would be proficient at using it. He had seen other people use phones, including his wife, but he had never stooped so low.

He picked up the receiver and a dull beeping noise filled his ears. He held it a bit farther from his ear, in annoyance. Then, a woman's voice startled him.

"Please insert change," her voice was smooth and then the beeping noise started all over again.

Change?! Tom wanted to kill that woman, whomever she may be. He began to ransack his robe, hoping that he could insert a few knuts.

There was a tap on the glass. Tom opened the door and there stood a boy who appeared to be about fourteen. He was wearing dusty trousers, a checkered shirt, and an oversized army coat.

"Are you almost finished?" he asked, chewing a stick of gum at the same time.

Tom was at his limit, but he tried to stay rational. "I am trying to find some change," he answered.

"Just look in the slot," he answered, looking away. "There's always some sort of change there."

Tom poked his fingers in the slot and removed a few pennies.

"Wham-o!" the boy shouted, raising his hand in the air and frightening Tom. "What'd I tell ya?"

Tom mumbled a thanks and then put his attention back to the phone.

"Hey!" the boy spoke up again. "Are you wanna them?"

Tom turned, "One of what?"

"A gang."

"Yes," Tom wanted him to shut-up.

The boy whistled, "Then you dress funny on purpose?"

It was too much. Tom dropped the receiver and ran at the boy. Unfortunately, the youth was extremely fast and jumped onto a public bus. He hung partly out the window and blew a raspberry as the bus drove off.

Then Tom did something he rarely did; he acted before he thought.

"Accio!"

The boy shot out of the moving bus' window and landed before Tom's feet.

"What is your name?" Tom asked.

"Blakely. Tenison Blakely." He now looked frightened.

Tom let a smile cross his face, though it probably looked more like a smirk.

"Well, Tenison, I believe you and I are about to strike a deal."

"What kin'a deal?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's simple. I let you live and even let you observe some things that may be of interest to you, and I get what I want."

He thought for a moment, then spoke, "Are you a pimp?" He squinted at Tom.

"No. Now, get up!"

When he had risen to his feet, Tom motioned for Tenison to follow him.

Tom located a small alcove in an ally and sat down in it's shadow. A minute passed.

"What're we doing?" The boy asked impatiently.

"I am thinking. You are being disruptive."

Tenison fiddled with a button on his coat, humming a tune.

Tom pointed his wand at the boy and spoke, "Silencio."

The humming stopped. Tenison opened his mouth repeatedly and eventually began running about in circles trying to find his voice.

"Petrificus Totalus," Tom spoke once more. Now he could think in peace.

Tenison slowly tipped over onto the ground stiff and silent.

This may turn out to have been the best thing to have happened to Tom in this particular situation. He could use the boy in some way - just how, at the moment, was escaping him.

He looked over at Tenison and found that they boy was looking about franticly, more than likely, trying to figure out why he was suddenly paralyzed. Tom decided after a moment's thought that thinking in silence was not working as well as he had anticipated. He removed both spells.

Tenison gave a short shout and rose from the pavement. His eyes were wide open and he breathed, "What the * was that?"

Tom answered curtly, "I am a wizard. Now, I need to get into a hospital. Can you think of a diversion?"

"A 'ospital? Why?"

"I have to get ahold of something that got stolen or that got lost - either way. It's very important; your life depends on it," he aimed his wand at the boys chest.

"Whatever you say!" Tenison spoke quickly and moved to the side.

"It is a hospital for wizards. It is down the block and inside a clothing shop. Do you read me?"

Tenison nodded frantically.

"The shop is a fake front. I am looking for a ring with a black stone in it. Any ideas?"

The boy frowned and replied, "I don't know abou' that sort o' stuff. Can't you just make yerself 'nvisible?"

Tom shook his head. "I will just have to use a polyjuice potion. Okay, I want you to go inside. There are heal - I mean, there are doctors inside, of course. I want you to find one and (I don't care what you have to do) just get ahold of some doctors hair and bring it back to me. Pronto!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Follow me."

********

When he and Tenison exited the clothing shop an hour and a half later, Tom was more depressed and haggard than before. He turned and addressed Tenison.

"Now, you have been helpful. I will remember and honor that fact. I could wipe your memory clean, but I don't see any reason," he looked pointedly at the boy, "why you should talk."

The boy shook his head vigorously.

"Alright, now we will part ways."

He walked several yards away, turned back to look at Tenison, then disappeared with a loud crack.

When Tom reappeared, he found himself back in Hepzibah's old residence. He sighed. It all seemed like a dream. In fact, he felt so strange that he determined that he must have at least dreamed up Tenison Blakely. He had gone into St. Mungo's alone. Having decided that, he moved on to the task at hand.

Since he hadn't procured Slytherin's ring, he would have to use his newly found information to his benefit. He listed the facts: Healer Sally Reindhardt, intern Phil Landen, and some girl named Lolita (no one seemed to know her last name) all had a fascination with patients' valuables. Phil was removed from the list of suspects because he didn't work in the ward that his wife had been taken to.

Tom sighed. He knew what he had to do.

Several minutes later, he found himself in the same phone booth where he had met, no, where he had imagined the boy. This time, he located the large phone book. Noting that it was filthy, he levitated it and turned it's pages, using his wand.

'P's...Q's...R's! … Ra… Re!" his eyes skimmed down the page. 'Reindhardt!… Bob… Bill… Carol… Sadie… Sally!"

He copied down the address.

The other suspect, Lolita, would have to wait.

It crossed his mind that perhaps Beth would be getting worried.

'She probably already is,' he thought.

He now skimmed the business section of the phone book.

"Belston's Packing and Moving," he muttered under his breath.

If he was going to arrive back at the house, he better have something to show for all the time he'd been absent.

*****

Beth had been interrupted during her usual afternoon lie-down by a ring of the doorbell. She opened the door and found a fourteen year old boy standing on the doorstep.

"Hello, M'am," he stared down at his filthy sneakers and smacked a piece of gum between his teeth.

"Well, hello," Beth was surprised.

"I got somethin' for you," the boy raised his head slightly and pulled something from his pocket. "Yer Ms. Riddle, right?"

"Yes…"

"Tell your husband that I found his ring. It was at the police station. Here," he handed Beth Slytherin's ring.

She took it and smiled, "Thank you. Will you please come in. Would you like to join us for dinner. It's the least we can do."

The boy's face turned pale, "Don't wanna trouble you, M'am."

"Oh, it's no trouble. Come in, come in. I am cooking meatloaf."

"I'm Tenison Blakely," the boy commented as Beth led him into the den.

"I'm Beth."

Tenison nodded.

"How do you know my husband?" Beth asked cautiously.

"I met him today in town. He asked me to help find it. Can you not ask me any more questions 'bout it?"

"Sure. Do you want to take off your jacket?"

"Naw. I might need to run."

"Run?"

"Your husband is a bit..," he paused and did a circular motion with his index finger near his ear.

"I am sure I know nothing about that," Beth smiled. "I guess he can be a bit strange when he's in a mood, though. Oh, I think I hear someone in the kitchen - must be him. I'll be back," she left the room in a hurry.

When she entered, Tom was wearing a triumphant smile and surrounded by cardboard boxes and packaging tape.

"I'm sorry it took me so long, Beth, darling," he addressed her, "I had no idea boxes were so hard to find! Why I must have gone to a dozen packaging places and it seemed every one of them were out - except the last one of course!" He gestured at the many boxes around him.

Beth, smiling, walked up to Tom. She tapped him playfully on the cheek and kissed him. She then looked into his eyes for a moment before slapping his face.

Tom didn't say a word, but his mouth dropped open in surprise and his hand reached up to touch the place which she had stricken him.

"That's for lying to me. Now, dinner is almost ready. Go get Salazar from his nap and greet a friend of yours who is waiting in the den."

Tom looked at her curiously, but decided that he would find out soon enough who the visitor was. He turned to retrieve Salazar.

"Oh," she tossed him the ring as he turned to look at her, "he wanted me to give you that."

Tom fingered the ring for a moment, letting wonder overtake him.

"Now!" ordered Beth.

Tom scurried out of the room just in time to hear loud cries penetrating Salazar's bedroom door.

When he arrived back downstairs with Salazar, he made his way into the den, not knowing who to expect. A thought jumped into his mind.

'What if it is Avery's ghost?!' He stopped in his tracks. 'He might want vengeance on me! Now, I can't kill him!' Suddenly Tom realized that he may actually have given Avery a prime opportunity to become his greatest foe. He could make married life for him miserable. What if he told Beth that Tom had killed him? 'I'm letting my fears get the better of me.' Carefully, he peeked around the corner. Both relief and irritation swept over him.

"Hello, Tenison," he addressed the boy politely. Salazar leaned over his arm reaching toward the ground.

"Hello."

Silence spiraled between them.

"I want to thank you for finding," he hesitated for a moment, "the ring."

"Yup," Tenison said, staring at his shoe.

"Dinner is ready," Beth said warmly as she entered the room. She took Salazar from Tom's arm and led Tenison into the dining room; Tom following quietly behind.

"Tenison," said Beth. "Perhaps you could tell me more about the connection between you and Tom." She smiled pleasantly at the boy and then turned a perturbed glance at Tom while Tenison choked on some water.

"Um.. I met him at the phone booth over on Main."

"At a telephone? How strange when ours is missing - yes, I've noticed," she continued to eye Tom. "Go on."

"He ran after me when I insulted him. I got onto a bus and then he shot a spell at me that pulled me back off the bus. Then, he forced me into an alleyway and did another spell that made me where I couldn't talk and then one that made me paralyzed. He forced me to help him sneak around the wizard hospital. After he left, I went down to the police station. That lady - Sally - had turned it in to the police in order to find its owner. I got it there and decided to bring it back. Please don't do anything to me!" Tenison flew under the table and out of sight.

"Tom, can I see you in the den," Beth arose and grabbed her husband by the arm. She dragged him into the other room and shut the door.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle!!!" she shrieked in his face. "I don't know what else you may have done to that boy, but I cannot bear such things. I don't want you going near Salazar!…," she began to poke him in the chest with her finger, forcing him to back up into the front door. "I don't want you near this house!, I don't want you near me!, and I don't want to see you ever again!!!" with that, she opened the door, forced him onto the doorstep by shoving him with her hands, and then banged the door closed before he could give a reply.

Tom stood on the doorstep, paralyzed with shock. 'Ouch,' was all he could seem to think. A pain had begun to form somewhere in his chest at her words. He realized it was probably risky - she might be watching, ready to send a curse at him if he stuck around - but he sat down on the front step. In all his life, he had never known such rejection. His mind told him that inevitably it would all blow over. Fear and experience told him that when someone said they didn't like you, there was no reason to believe that their feelings would change.

He now must decide what to do, where to go, and all those unpleasant things he never thought he'd have to figure out. His friends - followers, really - looked at him as strong and in-charge. He couldn't go to any of them for help. He would lose every ounce of respect that he worked so hard to gain. Now was not the time to go back.

A small thought crossed his mind. 'If only I had gotten Beth to put the ring back on. Then, I might have been able to exercise my influence over her. Gotten her to forgive me, perhaps.' Tom sighed. It was a useless thought. The opportunity for that had passed.

On an impulse, he apparated.

The hall he appeared in was void of human life. For a moment, he considered wandering into each bed chamber, but, being the time it was, it was probably more likely that he would find who he was looking for downstairs. He wandered down the staircase and entered a formal dining room. Seeing a door at the far end of the room, he made his way over to it. He opened it swiftly and silently.

A woman stood at the sink with her back to Tom scrubbing dishes. She was singing along loudly with a song on the radio. Her dark, wild hair was pinned up with the exception of a few stray curls that fell down along her neck.

Tom pointed his wand at the radio, silencing it.

The woman stopped singing abruptly and stared at it for a moment.

"Stupid thing!" she cried, turning the dial back to 'on.'

Tom silenced it again.

She swore and glared at it.

"Bella…" Tom said quietly.

Bellatrix LaStrange jumped and then turned to face him.

"My Lord…"

Tom nodded, "Your husband is home, correct?"

She looked crestfallen, "Not right now, but he will be back in a while. Can I do something, give you something..?"

Tom began to finger his wand. "I have been sentenced to a nomadic lifestyle for the time being," he remarked, choosing his words very carefully.

"Oh, please stay with us, my Lord. There could be no higher honor!" she looked up into his face, her eyes wide, a lit excitement blazing in their green pupils.

He gazed at her with a half-acknowledged glance. "I could grace your existence," he mused, knowing that it would drive her nuts.

"Yes, YES!" she urged. "Please stay. Dinner will be soon and we have some very luxurious guest-quarters!"

Tom let loose a slow smile.

"I will get you settled. Its just up the stairs… Second room on the left - the one with the private bath… I will send up one of the house-elves and she will get you as comfortable as you wish." She paused and placed her hand upon Tom's shoulder in a tender manner, "I will be downstairs if you need anything that Pinky can't deliver herself."

Tom brushed away her hand and she immediately shrank back in a strangely timid way. He smiled once more and then closed the door in her face.

He decided to explore his quarters. The first thing his eyes fell upon was the substantial canopy bed. It was presumably constructed of a sturdy hardwood and was clad in silks, velvets, and other quality textiles. Upon sitting down, he found it to be as comfortable to the body as it was to the eyes. He decided to carry out the rest of his investigation from a recumbent stance on the bed. There was a large fireplace in front of the bed with a portrait of a milk-maid located above it. The outermost wall had a series of windows; all flanked by coordinating silk curtains.

Tom's scrutiny of his surroundings was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Enter," he said.

A small, dish-towel clad house-elf entered.

Bowing, she spoke in a high-pitched voice, "Pinky is here, Sir, to grant whatever you wish."

"It seems that I find no current desire," Tom dismissed her.

"Perhaps," Pinky spoke softly, "Pinky could just light a fire for her Lord?"

Tom raised an eyebrow before responding, "That would be fine."

Pinky bowed and then began to busy herself with fire preparations. Instantly, at the spark of the wood, a warm glow made the room seem even more appealing.

"Is there not anything else that Pinky can do for Master?" she squeaked.

"No, that will be all."

Pinky began to leave the room.

"On second thought…" Tom spoke slowly, "perhaps you could check on someone for me…"

"Anything is possible for you, Sir," she said softly.

"Look in on someone by the name of Elizabeth Riddle," he rattled off his home address and then continued, "and do not be seen. That is imperative."

"Yes, master. Pinky will do as you ask." She bowed and exited the room.

A minute later the door opened. Tom had shut his eyes, intent on taking a nap - and felt more than a little cross when the intruder didn't even bother to knock.

"Yes?!" he inquired in a stern voice.

"Tom? I…," Beth paused for an instant. "Why is that house-elf staring at me?"

Tom waved at Pinky and she left the doorway.

"Tom, I came to apologize… I said things that were terrible and hurtful and I didn't mean any of it!" she wiped a few tears from her eyes and approached her husband. "Can you forgive me and come home - I need you, Salazar needs you…"

Tom's heart melted a little, but he tried to harden his resolve. "You don't trust me - you never do…. how did you know where I had gone?"

Beth blinked a few times and then said, "I just knew… I guess there's some sort of connection between a wife and a husband that nothing can explain. I was going to ask you to come back when you apparated. I sent that boy back home and I modified his memory. I don't think he'll sue." She gave a tiny smile.

"Well, I'm still reeling. Just let me alone for a time…"

Beth did not take that request at all as he had hoped. She collapsed on the floor in sobs. "What did I do? What did I do? God help me!! I should have known - I deserve such words. Just please don't send me away! Don't leave me to raise your son by myself… don't leave me to grow old alone… don't leave me!"

Something began to block Tom's throat and he swallowed hard trying to make it go away. 'She deserves this,' he told himself. 'She treated me in turn; an eye for an eye!'

The sobbing continued, although Tom did not hear it. It continued and Tom stared at the wall. It continued and Tom did not hear the screaming. It continued and Tom did not hear her digging her nails into the carpet. It continued and Tom did not hear it begin to lessen. It continued and Tom did not hear the house-elf return. It continued and Tom did not hear the elf squeal in fright as she tried to arouse his wife back to life. It was not until his wife lay dead at his feet that Tom looked down.

She was splayed out, fingers griping the carpet, blood oozing from her gaping mouth.

Tom did not waste any time. He fled. He went down to Diagon Alley and only rested once he reached the darkened streets. Lonely and broken, he passed the night with his head resting against the cobblestones.

*****

The paper the next day reported that Mrs. Riddle had died from a ruptured heart. The cause was unknown and Tom felt just enough thanks to look with favor upon the LeStranges; they had refused to give testimony and had modified their house-elf's memory. He was in the clear.


	4. Chapter 4

"Thank you for all your help," Tom smiled and nodded at the boy standing before him. Boxes encircled them both and Tenison Blakely had to shove a few aside before he could reach the door.

"No problem." He tipped his cap and exited leaving Tom to shut the door behind him.

He leaned against the door and sighed; exhausted from the moving process. In retrospect, he might have been able to accomplish it without all this fuss or Tenison's help by using magic. However, he now found that he was not so quick to reach for his wand as he once was. He had long felt magic was his ally, but now he felt hesitant. It was brought to an even starker contrast as he found himself in his new abode located in the all-magic haunt of Hogsmeade readying himself to teach magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a sharp knock on the door. Opening it, he found Tenison standing on his doorstep.

"Yes?" Tom asked, eyebrows raised.

"How do I get outta here?" the boy asked, a quizzical look on his face.

Tom laughed and held up a finger, signaling for 'one moment.' He disappeared from the room then returned carrying a sleepy Salazar.

The three of them exited the apartment.

********

Once Tenison had been delivered safely out of Hogsmeade, Tom was now able to begin unpacking. He had thought about keeping the boy around to help with that, but he felt nervous enough letting someone else touch the boxes that held his personal - and very private - belongings. Salazar, still sleepy, was quickly deposited in his crib.

Tom now had to prioritize. What should he unpack first? It seemed kitchen, bathroom, and nursery things would be the most needed.

After stocking the bathroom with toilet paper, towels, and soap, he moved on to the kitchen.

Opening the first box, he lifted out a coffee pot. First, he thought little of it. Then, as he placed it on the counter, next to the sink like it had been in his previous dwelling, he felt a pain in his chest. It seemed the simple coffee pot would be his undoing. Through all the arrangements, in-laws, and even the funeral, he had remained rather emotionless. Now, however, it all hit him. Hard.

Dropping down to the floor, he leaned against a cabinet, legs pulled close to him; huddling like a child in fear. Tears leaked out of his eyes and down his cheeks. None of this was the way he wanted it to be.

Saladar began to scream. Tom imagined it as a mirroring of his feelings. He got up from the floor and proceeded towards the nursery.

His son was gripping the railing of his crib, tears streaming down his cheeks. Tom lifted him out and went over to the rocking chair. He began to rock back and forth, back and forth. "Hush little baby; don't say a word. Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird…. and if that mocking… bird won't sing…. Daddy's gonna buy you a diamond…. ring." Tom couldn't go on any further. The ring; he could not stand being reminded of it. Not to mention, Beth used to sing that same sad song. Tom began to weep. Salazar looked up at his dad, eyes wide with fear. Then, he began to cry, too. He whimpered and Tom tried to steady himself as best as he could. It was just so hard. His mind kept flashing back to the time when he had watched Beth from the doorway - a very loving mother and wife; something he would never have again.

*****

On the first day of school, Tom got up early and dressed before heading downstairs. The doorbell rang and there was Tenison. Tom showed him in and invited him to breakfast. Tenison was very pleased with the pancakes and asked if he would be invited to breakfast every morning.

"I wouldn't mind it," Tom replied before really thinking it through.

"So, when are you gonna be back?" asked Tenison, pouring a bit more syrup.

"I will be back at two. You can watch tv or whatever you like. I had a phone put in over there in case you need it. And, I must ask you to water the plants in the garden out back. Can you do that?"

"Sure."

Tom eyed him steadily. "You sure you don't mind…"

"Naw, I like Salazar. It's a cool name anyway. Besides, I like it better here than at the orphanage," he took a huge bite and coughed a bit.

"Good. Well, everything's where it should be. If anybody shows up, tell them they can come back later or leave a message. Now, I better get going. See you later."

"Bye, Mr. Riddle," Tenison paused and then shouted. "Don't forget my money when you come back!"

Tom began his steady walk towards the school. It was early enough that the air held a crispness that already hinted of autumn. It wasn't the first time since he'd moved in that he made the trek to the school. There had, of course, been the sorting and feast last night as well as several meetings held by Headmaster Dumbledore a couple weeks earlier. The first one had seemed more like an introduction of Tom himself to all the other teachers than anything he personally might have found useful. Most of the teachers, of course, already knew Tom, having taught him themselves. Tom was aware that there was some whispering regarding young age, but most seemed to have favorable opinions.

Tom glanced down at his pocket-watch, though he knew that no more than several minutes could have passed. A cool breeze blew against him, making him draw his cloak tighter about himself.

In the distance now, he could see the Hogwarts' Castle. It stood out dark against a landscape of green forests and lighter gray clouds. Owls circled around a particularly tall turret that was used as the Owlery. Tom let out a laugh as one owl appeared to chase the other, nipping at it's tail feathers.

Soon, he found himself nearing the large doors. He prepared himself mentally for the waves of nostalgia that always overtook him when he entered. He must keep in mind that things were still going to be different from when he'd been here as a student.

"Good morning, Professor Riddle," the history of magic teacher, one of many Hogwarts' ghosts, drolled.

"Good morning, Professor Binns," Tom responded politely.

He wound past the history professor and towards his classroom.

Another teacher sprinted up from behind Tom and slowed to a easy walking speed when he was level with him.

"Ah, good morning Professor Slughorn."

"But we're both professors now, Tom. You can call me Horace," he laughed, his arm around Tom's shoulders.

Tom smiled. He knew he could count on Horace Slughorn for a pleasant welcome; Tom had always been a favorite of his.

"Go easy on the kids, Tom. Most of them can't tell a bezoar from a bat, but we're all learning here!"

Tom chuckled. "I'll do my best."

"You always have."

Tom waved and ducked into his classroom. The students would arrive soon.

*****

Tom waited until five minutes after to begin his lesson. He eyed the classroom and noted that two seats were still empty. He shook his head and began:

"First years, now today we will be starting in our books. Please open to page five. We will begin by going over the introduction…"

Tom was interrupted by two giggling girls.

"Sorry, Professor!" said one of them. "Had to pee.."

"Don't use that language in my classroom!" Tom felt his anger mount.

Several of the boys laughed. "Professor, Riddle?" one of the boys raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Do you have a problem with the word 'potty,' too?"

More snickers.

Tom cleared his throat. "Actually, I have a problem with any such word as long as it has nothing to do with our lesson."

"What if you show us how to transfigure pee?" asked someone from the back row.

Tom did not answer, but strode to the back of the room and grabbed the student by the collar. "This is my classroom and you will do as I order - or else!!!"

"Or else what?" asked the cheeky youth.

"Or else… you die." Tom had lowered his voice to a sinister whisper.

The boy's smile faded as he looked at Tom's face. "Yes, sir."

"Now, I have a change in mind. Today, we will put away our books and begin with a practical demonstration of magic. What's your name?" Tom inquired of the same boy.

"Hoffman."

"Come up here where everyone can see you. Now, I have a bottle here of clear liquid. I want you to take a sip of it."

The boy took the bottle and did as he was told.

"Now, Hoffman. We have a few questions for you. What was your most embarrassing moment in your life?"

Hoffman stared blankly at the back wall and began in a monotone vice, "Once, I went to the park and somebody's dog got ahold of my pants and ripped them off me - along with my underwear. I ran yelling through the park, stark naked."

The classroom, previously paralyzed by expectant fear, was now alive with boisterous laughing. Tom chose not to smile though me felt that he might be enjoying this more than the children. It harkened back, no doubt, to the times he toyed with the other children at the orphanage. Once the merriment had died down to smiles and a few giggles, Tom spoke again.

"What's your first name?"

"Andy."

"And your middle initial?" Tom requested patiently.

"G," he responded, still dazed by the potion.

"What does it stand for?"

"Gaylord," responded Hoffman.

The room was once again filled with howls and hysteria. Chaos reigned and Professor Tom Marvolo Riddle ruled. Several of the children were almost falling out of they're seats. Others wiped stray tears of delight from their cheeks.

"Hoffman," Tom spoke over the commotion, calming it to a buzz, "these classmates," he paused to gestured around at everyone, "these girls," he pointed at several and continued on, "which is the prettiest?"

The room froze with anticipation. Hoffman slowly raised his arm and, index finger extended, pointed to a girl with rosy cheeks and large, almond-shaped eyes. A shriek of surprised pride came from the girl sitting next to her.

"Melody! He picked you! He picked you!"

Everyone guffawed. Melody, blushed, but smiled with bold pride. Everyone was in ecstasy.

"Get up," Tom ordered Hoffman through the commotion, "and go back to your seat."

The boy stood and walked stiffly back to his chair.

"Now," Tom turned and addressed the glowing crowd, raising the bottle still filled with an ample amount of truth serum, "any more volunteers?"

The room went deathly quiet.

He walked down one of the aisles and stopped before a rotund boy.

"How about you?" he asked threateningly.

The boys face shook back and forth vigorously.

"No?" Tom asked, feigning surprise.

He turned and pointed to a girl with freckles and curly hair.

"You?"

Her hair bobbed as she, too, shook her head.

"Well, then," he stepped to the front of the class, "We shall begin with our lesson then."

Tom paused for an instant, "Alright, take out your books once more and we will start by taking ten minutes to read the first chapter and introduction. But first, let me start by telling you my rules. You are to be here promptly at nine, every morning. If you cannot come, I expect for there to be a sick-note from Madam Pomfrey. Homework will be handed in on time unless otherwise rescheduled with my permission. If you must leave class, tell me where you are going. If you need help or have any questions about the lessons or the homework, see me in my office from noon to two. If you can't meet with me during those hours, you can make an appointment. I will expect everyone from here on out to have read the assigned chapter before class. During class, I will tolerate no talking, note-passing, or eating. You may raise your hand if you have a question or a comment and I will be happy to hear from you. Punishment for misbehavior and unfinished or messy work will cost you your grade or your… secrecy. Do I make myself clear?"

There was much head-nodding and murmurs of 'yes, sir.'

"Good, let's begin."

*****

Tom was feeling very tired by the time noon came. He was sitting in his office, alternating between lesson planning, eating lunch, and dozing off. He was just beginning to think about going out to get a drink of coffee when there was a knock at his door. Tom arose, "Come in."

"Sir?" it was a sixth-year, "I'm Patricia Brint. "I want to talk about the homework…"

"Well, come on in and sit down."

"Thank you… um, I was trying to practice the..," she turned around and stared at he door. "Do you mind if I close it?"

"Go on, if it makes you more comfortable."

"Thank you, sir. Actually, I don't have a homework question."

Tom's eyebrows rose, "What, then?"

"I remember you when you were a student here two years ago. I was a fourth-year. Um, word gets around and well, especially between the Slytherins', and I wanted to welcome you back - Lord Voldemort."

Tom was momentarily caught off guard; this was something he hadn't anticipated. It was, of course, necessary to acquire more followers. However, this was a delicate matter and blind acceptance would not do. Interrogation would be wise.

He walked over to a desk drawer and removed a file labeled "roll call lists." He glanced at the tops of the pages until his eyes fell upon the sixth-year list. He skimmed the Slytherin House names. His eyes fell upon her afore-given name. Now, he could proceed, having determined that she truly did belong to his house.

"Is that all, you wish to say?" he questioned discretely.

"No, sir," her eyes seemed filled with devotion and self-doubt. It was obvious that it had taken great courage to confront him on this subject.

"Miss Brint," he spoke respectfully, "it occurs to me that a meeting of this nature may be best continued when I am no longer limited to my position as teacher and can better assume my true status. Ergo, I think that any further talk regarding your aforementioned subject should be restricted to time outside of school."

"You wish to speak with me… personally… on our own time?" she spoke fearfully, yet with gratification.

"I don't want to have mislead you to believe that anything I did in my years as a student was flighty. I ask in grave solemnity, do you desire to further discuss this?"

He stared at her with steely, commanding eyes.

"Yes, my lord," she bowed her head humbly.

"Then we shall. I will arrange it. If you have nothing more to say, you may go."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

She exited the room.

Tom rubbed his forehead, still dazed from the surprise visit. He would have to learn to handle such things better. After all, it seemed that there were most likely others who were like-minded. They could not be dismissed. Everyone plays a part in the greater scheme of things; young or old.

*****

Tom arrived back home to find Tenison engaged in some sort of game show on television. He jumped when Tom entered the room.

"Hi, sir. Some lady came by askin' for you - she wouldn't leave a name, but she looked kinda odd."

"Kinda odd? How so?"

"She looked like she would have drooled all over you, sir. And, she was giggling a lot."

"Adult or juvenile?"

"Juvenile. Icky, though. I don't know how you stand it. Women comin' an' doing stupid stuff around you…"

Tom gave him a funny look, "Someday, I will be able to flaunt that in your face and you, young man, are gonna care. Was she average hight, blond hair?"

"Yup."

"Same girl…," Tom mumbled to himself. "But how did she find out where I live - doesn't matter… Anybody else show up?"

Tenison sighed, "What are you runin' here? - a pimp…"

"I believe you can leave now," Tom pointed towards the door.

"What abou' my money?"

"Here," Tom handed him some change.

"This is just enough for the bus," the boy complained.

"Good. Then you can leave. See you tomorrow - goodbye!" Tom shut the door and then switched off the television. He went into the nursery and found Salazar fast asleep. "Time for me to do the same," Tom reminded himself.

Just then, the doorbell rang and rang and then, rang some more.

"I am coming!" He reached the door and opened it, expecting to find Tenison or some other annoying human being.

"Ah, Bellatrix…"

"My lord, I am here on request of the others… Now that you have taken a teaching post, we are curious to find out what the next move is."

"Bella, I am going to tell you something, and you can take it however you like…"

"Yes?" expectation widened her eyes and made them sparkle. "Yes?"

"I am tired and want to sleep; please go away. I will contact the others when I am ready. Good day," he slammed the door in her face.

********

Tom strode back and forth. People, cloaked in black, were squished in the tight living space. Bellatrix sat on the floor at the foot of her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange. Tom's followers were squeezed into couches pushing them beyond their ordinary capacity. He enjoyed the sight. It made his devotees look more numerous than ever.

"As you all know," he began, "I am now a professor at Hogwarts."

There were pleased nods and a murmur of affirmation throughout the room.

"I find myself with more resources than ever to forward are great cause," he paused, "This means, that you all are more important than ever. I have the resources, but do I have the dedicated followers necessary to implement my plans?" He looked about the room. Crabbe stared dully at the place where his feet would ordinarily be visible if not for his girth. Wilkes stared back at Tom self-assuredly and held his chin high. Bellatrix gazed hungrily up at Tom. "One of these resources I have recently acquired is a common report that travels throughout Slytherin House. Knowledge of me lives on. Students - like you and I once were - ready to fight for our very same convictions. But will they be dedicated followers? They will need proper instruction. I do not have the time to do so. Several of you," he paused to glance around at several Death Eaters again, "will be chosen to instruct them. Normally I would be reluctant to raise one follower above the other, however, it is time to charge the faithful and weed-out the untrue."

Bellatrix could not hold in her feelings any longer. "My lord! I would be more than willing to do anything you ask of me - anything!"

Tom glanced at her and smiled, "If I take volunteers, how am I supposed to give others a chance to prove themselves?"

Bellatrix's face flushed scarlet and she backed away into the shadowy corner in haste.

"I want you, Crabbe, to work with a Miss Patricia Brint."

Crabbe blinked and looked up at Tom. "Me?"

"Yes, you!" Why did they have to be so slow? "I want you to work with her whenever she is able to leave the school grounds. I will expect periodic reports. Okay, now on to other business…"

*****

Tom was feeling very excited when he arrived back home. There were plans now - big plans… they just needed to figure out how many students at the school were willing (or scared enough) to help.

There was a clanking noise coming from the kitchen. Tom jumped and whipped out his wand, ready to attack the intruder. He rounded the corner and saw…

"Miss Brint!"

"My lord, I knew you'd be here soon - I wanted to surprise you. I have something for you. It's in this box," she held it out to him, her hand shaking.

He took the box and eyed her steadily. She did not flinch or back away, but stared.

"What was that crashing noise?" Tom asked.

"I dropped one of the pans. I made you a cake. I know how much you love lemon… Aren't you gonna open it?" she looked almost hurt. "Open your box."

Tom ripped off the paper and pulled off the lid.

"It's something that should help you get ride of that mice problem in your attic. Isn't she lovely? And only a week old since she hatched. I ordered her from a pet shop in London. Oh, not to worry - she's not poisonous - not yet, anyways. She should grow big if you let her feed a lot. I thought luminous green was a nice scale color, don't you think?"

Tom stared down at a little green snake. He looked down at it and introduced himself in parseltongue. The snake hissed softly and curled into a tight cozy ball before relaxing once again. Tom allowed himself a small smile before hardening his face and looking back up at Patricia.

"Where is Tenison?" he asked, not bothering to explain who the boy was because she probably already knew.

"I gave him piece of the cake I made. He left quite satisfied."

Tom stared piercingly at her. As much as he hated to admit it, she frightened him. He gestured at one of the chairs that huddled around the eat-in-kitchen's table. Patricia sat down and he settled across the table from her.

"Miss Brint-"

"Patricia," she intervened, "if you will, my lord."

"Alright," Tom held in his mounting temper that was fed by alarm, "Patricia, I-" he stopped abruptly as an idea came into his head. A short, but elaborate battle began to rage within him at the notion. Ignoring the remaining voices that protested in his head, he continued his previously deserted sentence. "I want you to have something. It is imperative that you do what I request regarding it. I cannot impart upon you the implications that may befall you if you fail to comply with these requirements."

Patricia nodded feverishly, shaking with her fervor.

Tom reached inside his pocket. He felt a little silly. He carried the trinket with him everywhere. He sighed as his fingers met with the cool metal. The last person to where it had been his wife, Beth.

"You must," he held it before her, out of her reach, "wear it at all times. Never for any reason take it off. It's damage or loss," he ended gravely, "will cost you your life."

Her eyes widened farther as she took the ring and slipped it on her finger. "Thank you," she breathed.

"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to have my dinner in peace. Please, do not show up unless I call you. Goodnight."

She left and Tom immediately threw the lemon cake in the trash - supposing it was poisoned…

He began to make dinner when suddenly, he felt the need to call Tenison. Tom went over to the phone and dialed the number for the orphanage.

"Hello? Can I please speak with Tenison Blakely? Thank you." He waited a moment and then he heard that familiar voice.

"Hi."

"Hello, Tenison. This is Mr. Riddle. I need to apologize for Patricia…"

Tenison's voice cracked at the other end of the line, "Oh, that cheese-brain!"

"Yes. Um… I have told her not to visit here unless I invite her over.."

"You invite her over an' I'll call the cops or - or worse."

"Don't worry; I won't. Will you be coming tomorrow?"

"I don't know…" Tenison paused. "I may be too busy."

"I will double your pay for the day and I will cook strawberry pancakes if you come."

"Alright. You better not be lying!"

"I'm not. I will see you tomorrow. Goodbye."

Tom hung up the phone and went back to his dinner preparations. He took a cold roast from the oven and began to compile a sandwich. Salazar began to cry in the nursery and Tom was forced to go and check on him. He was standing in his crib and shaking the railing.

"No, no, no..," Tom picked him up. "You are going to break your crib and hurt yourself. I don't know how much longer I can keep you in this contraption… I suppose that I may have to revert to something else (is there anything between a crib and a bed?)." He carried Salazar into the kitchen and caught sight of the little boa constrictor, still in it's tiny cage. Tom unlatched the lid and picked up the snake. He held it up in front of Salazar, who immediately stopped crying.

"Salazar, this is… Nagini. She is our new member. Can you say 'hi'?"

Salazar reached out his hands and drooled a bit, but did not say anything. Nagini flicked her tongue and hissed.

"Yes," Tom spoke. "I hope he has 'the gift'. All in good time. He can't speak english yet so no use in expecting parseltongue."

Nagini coiled up into a tiny ball and stared about the room. Tom set Salazar down on the rug near the sink.

********

Tom paced impatiently around his desk. His eyes traveled repeatedly from the door to the wall clock to his pocket watch. Feelings of excitement and dread filled him. His plan was simple. His goal was easily accomplished. Still, his whole body was on edge. He didn't want to see her. She made his skin crawl.

A knock reverberated around the room, punctuated by Tom's pounding heartbeat.

"C-" he coughed shortly, "Come in."

He watched the doorknob turn slowly. The door opened, seeming to take an eternity.

Tom stared blankly at the woman that walked through the door.

"Bellatrix?" he said almost inaudibly.

"Who did you think it was?" she smiled widely. "No, really, I know you didn't expect to see me here of all places. I stopped by you house and- Why are you looking at me so funny?"

"I was expecting someone else," he shook his head, trying to clear out the momentary confusion. "Please," he gestured at a seat, "shut the door and continue."

"Well," Bellatrix continued, "I was going to drop something off at your house. When I arrived, there was this sniveling boy there-"

"Tenison."

"What?"

"His name," Tom said quietly, "is Tenison."

"Right, of course, master. Tenison was there. I didn't really trust him with what I had brought so…"

She rattled on for several minutes. Tom wavered in and out of focus. His eyes drifted up to the clock. Patricia was four and a quarter minutes late. He was being ridiculous letting this girl control him. He didn't know why he was so panicky. There was just something about her…

Bellatrix was interrupted in her chatter by a sharp knock at the door.

"I'm afraid you'll have to go. Thank you for bringing that by," he addressed Bellatrix shortly.

He strode to the door and opened it. Patricia was standing there, books in hand. Bellatrix strode past her and out of the office. Patricia grinned and then turned to face Tom.

"My lord! I am so sorry that I am late… I was finishing up the reading for class tomorrow."

"That's fine," Tom avoided eye contact. "I wanted to show you something. Bring your books - did you tell anyone that I asked you to come?"

"Oh, no, sir. I…"

At that instant, the door behind her banged open. There stood a seventh year. He looked very angry.

"Professor Riddle! I want to speak with you right now!" he pounded his fist on Tom's desk.

Patricia spoke up, "This is my boyfriend, Louis…"

He broke in, "Professor, usually I have respect for teachers… But this cuts the cake!"

"… He's the beater for our Quiddich…"

"Shut up, woman!" Louis yelled. He turned back to Tom. "You slime! You outta be whipped - I told Dumbledore how you've been treating my girlfriend an' you are in more trouble than you ever imagined. Now, get outta here or I will knock more sense into your skull than you've ever though imaginable!" He pulled out his Quiddich bat and aimed a blow.

Tom grabbed his wand and, in a flash, both Patricia and Louis were on the floor - dead. Tom heard footsteps coming down the corridor. He left the office and ran past several other professors before turning down an empty corridor and disappearing into the room of requirement.

Once there, he took a few deep breaths and then realized that he forgot his ring! He cussed and kicked at some furniture in a rage. After a few minutes he regained his composure. He sat down upon a chair and thought.

********

Tom was used to weird things happening, but this was something new. He was sitting across from a huge mirror. He looked at himself for a second and then thought about shattering the glass when, suddenly, there was Beth!

She was smiling at first, but then her smile faded to disappointment.

Tom spoke, shakily, "Hello, Beth.."

She looked at him and shook her head.

He began again, "Beth, darling.."

She looked down at her feet as though ashamed, but she did not respond otherwise.

Reaching forward, he caressed the glass. His fingers trailed up from the image of her hand, to her downturned face. He felt flat. He contained no true emotion. His eyes lacked the tears that might come from the memories of his many failures. His mind lacked the strength to think anything constructive. Nothing around him mattered. All there was was Beth and him. He stood and stared at the image, hand now dropped loosely at his side. He didn't want to take his eyes off of her. He didn't dare move his eyes from the mirror for fear that she might wander away. His heart beat rhythmically. His mind drifted to his lost ring. Then, they wandered to Bellatrix Lestrange; it was undeniable that sometimes he tried to fill the space Beth had left behind with his eccentric follower. He laughed mirthlessly. He was a fool to think that such a woman would ever replace his dearest Beth.

"Beth," he sighed, dropping back into the chair, eyes still focused on her. "What would you have me do? I have a son… our son." He momentarily lost focus. Feelings of worry and concern for Salazar enveloped him. His eyes never moved from the mirror. Now, he found that Beth was cradling Salazar before his very eyes. He smiled; contented by the depiction. "He's watching Salazar," he spoke to Beth. "Tenison is. I leave him with Tenison every day - assuming he agrees to it. I pay him, too; compensation for his time."

Beth swayed back and forth gently, rocking Salazar. Tom could hear her voice. It didn't emanate from the mirror, but from his store of memories.

"Hush little baby," Tom mumbled slowly, "Don't say a word, momma's gonna buy you a mocking bird…" He sang on, unaware of the time passing; pleased to stare at his wife and son for eternity.

Eventually, common sense crept back into his mind. A sense of duty reentered his heart. The time for hiding was over. It was time to face all that was in the world.

"Farewell, Beth, my love," he sighed.

*********

"Where you been?" Tenison moaned at Tom when he entered the small apartment. "There were people here tryin' ta get in."

"Where is Salazar?" Tom asked quickly.

Tenison gestured to the nursery down the hall. Tom ran past him. Salazar lay asleep in the crib, unaware of any goings-ons. Tenison appeared at Tom's side.

"What's goin' on?"

"It's complicated," Tom responded out of instinct. "What people were here?"

"A bunch of your folk. They were wearing th' pointy hats and carrying sticks."

"How did you avoid them?" Tom asked amazedly, now holding a groggy Salazar.

"I've avoided worse at the orphanage. I jus' grabbed Salazar an' did the best job of hidin' I could."

Tom blinked, "Where did you hide?"

"Under a bunch o' coats in the closet."

Tom shook his head. "Anyway, we need to get away…"

Tenison looked scared, "Get away?"

"Yes, yes… I am in trouble… I guess we are permanently on the move. Come on!" he grabbed the boy by the arm and dragged him to the broom cupboard. "Climb on!" he ordered Tenison. The boy got on. "Hold on tight."

They lifted up into the air and flew through an open window. Tenison was screaming and clutching at the broom and at Tom's cloak.

"Would you settle down?!" Tom yelled back. "It's not that bad!"

"Where are we headed?" Tenison asked.

"Those mountains," Tom pointed into the distance. "Near the Giants - we have somewhat of an alliance…"

"Giants!" Tenison sounded more scared than ever.

Tom tried to ignore him and began to descend closer to the trees.

*****

They landed in a small clearing. Tom placed the broom against a tree. Tenison was shaking with fright, Salazar was crying again, and Tom was forced, as usual, to take up some sort of leadership in the situation.

He pulled out his wand and made a tent appear. Tenison jumped and then ran out of the clearing. Tom headed after him but stopped once he heard retching sounds. He returned to the tent and went inside with Salazar. Once inside, he removed something from his pocket. He had shrunk the mirror and had brought it with him. He looked at it now, but Beth was not there; just a picture of his house - the one he had just left.

He had brought so little. He mentally listed the few possessions that he had brought with him: the clothes on his back and the mirror; nothing more. Tom sighed softly. He glanced back down toward the mirror as though it might bring him some kind of wisdom. He could see nothing reflected in the cold glass. No. There was a smear.

Tom attempted to clean the glass with his shirt. The smudge didn't budge.

"Engorgio," he commanded, guiding the mirror to a larger size.

A small, green shape wiggled across the mirror's surface. Large, yellow, eyes looked penetratingly up at him. A few words in parsletongue escaped Tom's lips.

"Nagini," he sighed. Even as he spoke, the small snake slithered out of view and was replaced by a void. Shrinking the mirror back to it's 'travel-size,' he replaced it in his pocket.

While Nagini had been a gift from the horrible bane, Patricia, he could not help, but feel close to the reptile. Snakes had always been his companions at the orphanage.

Tenison reappeared in the clearing.

"What's that?" he asked, wiping his mouth.

"It's just a mirror," Tom responded.

"You didn't bother to grab food or diapers," he gestured pointedly at Salazar who was admiring a blue bug in the middle of the clearing, "but you bothered to grab a mirror? What else did you bring? Hair curlers?"

Tom glared at Tenison before responding, "You have no idea of what you speak."

Tenison dropped to the ground and joined Salazar in studying the shiny beetle. Salazar giggled as Tension did a wild impression of what he described to be a lovelorn beetle. The soft rustling sound of shifting leaves echoed over their merriment.

"Shh!" Tom withdrew his wand, brandishing it in the direction from which the noises imminated.

All three waited expectantly for several minutes. Salazar made a small cry as the beetle crawled onto his hand before shaking it off. Tom glared at Tenison as if to say, "Can't you keep him quiet for two seconds while I keep watch?"

There was a louder rustling and several leaves at the edge of the clearing wiggled. A small green snake wriggled out of the confines and waited quietly before the three.

Salazar was the first to respond with a wordless cry. Tenison stared blankly. Tom lowered his wand slowly and then spoke.

"Nagini."

Tenison shook his head, "You named a worm? You are so weird!"

"It is not a worm," Tom bent over to pick it up. "It is a snake and a pet of mine. If you had a dog, wouldn't you want it to be here? Wouldn't you bring it along?"

Tenison thought before responding, "Yeah, but the dog would be more help."

Tom tried to ignore that last remark. "Let's get Salazar into the tent. Tenison, I need you (since you opened up your pie hole again) to go to London and get us some provisions."

"You want me to walk all the way back to London?!" Tenison scowled.

"No… I simply want you to head toward the nearest bus station, get on a bus, and go back to London. Not really any different from what you usually do."

"It's a bit farther to walk than usual," mumbled Tenison as he left the tent and exited the clearing.

Tom sat down on the floor, still holding Salazar. He pulled out the mirror and enlarged it to its original size. He smiled as Beth appeared, but then fell into a fit of anger when he realized that she was not alone. She was embracing and kissing Avery.

*****

Tenison arrived in London an hour later. The sun was setting and there was heavy traffic everywhere. He headed down a few streets in search of a grocery store, when someone grabbed him and pulled him down a dark alleyway.

There was a large group of people waiting for him. Tenison struggled against a man's grasp and then yelled the first thing that popped into his head.

"You people are crazy! What are you the black version of the ku klux Klan?!!"

The man let go of him and pulled off his hood and mask. "We are colleagues of Mr. Riddle. We need to know where he is."

"I ain't tellin'!" Tenison turned about in a flash and dashed back out of the alley. He made it back out into the street and almost got ran over by a car. Cars honked in annoyance and Tenison began to feel even more panicky. He turned about again and felt someone poke him in the ribs. The next thing he knew everything was melting away around him. He saw a bright light and then a fancy living room. He was lying on a couch and he could hear people whispering in the background.

Tom's stern voice could be heard carrying over the others. Tenison peered through half-open eyes. Tom was standing in the midst of Tenison's dark-robed assailants, holding Salazar in his arms. Bellatrix was crooning - at Tom or Salazar, Tenison could not tell.

Tom's eyes shifted in Tension's direction and he quickly shut his eyes; preferring not be the focus and wanting to find out what they were all about.

"Sir," said a priggish-sounding man, "he's a muggle."

"Yes," Tom responded, "and right now, he is in better standing with me than you are. Watch your step."

"My apologies, my lord."

Tom flicked his wand in the direction of the man causing him to flinch and clutch his arm.

"Bellatrix," he turned and stared at the wide-eyed woman, "What do you have to say regarding this? You are being unusually unapologetic."

The woman winced as if struck by a blow.

"My lord, do not think of my silence as indifference or disregard for the seriousness of this situation. I was the first to tend to the boy when he was struck down," she cowered, but batted her eyelashes nonetheless. "I had nothing to do with the capture."

Tom gazed at her suspiciously.

"Please, though, forgive me, my lord, for any part I may have unknowingly played in this onslaught."

Tom nodded in her direction, acknowledging her words.

Tenison felt an itch in his nose. His fingers twitched wanting to reach up and try to calm the irritation. A loud sneeze escaped him, bringing him to an upright position. All eyes turned toward him He reached in his pocket for a handkerchief and began to blow his nose loudly.

Tom dashed forward, passing Salazar to Bellatrix.

"Tenison," he said shortly.

"What're they tryin' ta do? I coulda been killed!" he gestured at the many death eaters.

"Tenison, I have and will continue to," he stared pointedly around at his followers, "punish these unruly colleagues of mine for their irrefutable act."

"That's all I ask," Tenison said moodily, crossing his arms.


	5. Chapter 5

"I was only two blocks off an' I get grabbed!" Tenison was in a terrible mood as he, Salazar, and Tom walked down to the grocery store. "They should be tied up by their toes an'," he paused.

"And?" inquired Tom, enjoying listening to the boy talk of torturous things.

"An' induce vomiting. Some lady at the orphanage did that to me once; it was awful!"

"Induce vomiting?" Tom grinned. "What a lovely idea as long as they have to clean it up themselves."

They arrived at the store entrance. Tenison went inside and Tom waited patiently by a row of carts.

*****

Tenison wandered about the different aisles for several minutes before he found what he was looking for. He grabbed a few packages and dumped them in his cart. Next, he got some canned goods. Before leaving this last aisle, he also grabbed one can of rattlesnake meat. He thought it would make a good joke for a latter time. After paying for the goods, he pocketed the receipt and the rattlesnake meat before heading back outside.

"What took so long?" inquired Tom. He was holding Salazar very close in order to block out some of the cold wind.

"You know how hard it is to find diapers?" asked Tenison.

"Wait a minute," Tom was fingering in one of the bags. "This is not right."

"What, sir?"

Tom lowered his voice, "You bought the wrong type of diapers… these are.." He paused to find the correct words to say. "Feminine stuff. I can't use that!"

"It was on sale and I didn't want to read them. They were on the same aisle, along with toilet paper an' tissues! No wonder that lady gave me a funny look. Yuck!"

"Well, you bought it," Tom kept his voice low and he was continually looking around to make sure that no one was nearby. "I can't really send you back in to return them… maybe they could be useful. Then again, maybe not," he picked up a package and then dropped it back into the sack after reading a bit of the information on the packaging.

"Why not?" Tenison asked the question just because he wanted to hear Tom's answer.

"Because they're made for… Oh, I guess I can use them. It's just not… normal."

"Nothing normal with you," Tenison mumbled. "Can't ya just make do until tomorrow. I could go to another store. One where people won't recognize me. Or you could have that Bellatrix get them. She'd know what to buy."

Tom, on a whim, pulled out the mirror from his pocket and looked at it. He saw a package of diapers. Chuckling to himself, he thoughtlessly showed it to Tenison.

"Whoa!" shouted Tenison. His hands reached up and stroked his hair, then rubbed down his shirt front.

"What?" Tom laughed. "It's just a package of nappies."

Tenison looked at him quizzically. "Why would I see that lookin' in a mirror?"

"What do you see?" Tom asked slowly as realization dawned on him. Just because that was what Tom wanted, didn't mean that it was what Tenison wanted.

"It's me," he said delightedly, "I got fancy clothes, and I'm standing in a posh flat with - with-" he stuttered excitedly and then suddenly went quiet.

"With what?" Tom asked curiously.

Tenison shook his head, suddenly mute.

"C'mon," he nudged Tenison playfully. Salazar gurgled and drooled on Tom's shirt.

"Alright…" he said slowly. "Girls." He sounded pained by the word.

"Ah," Tom raised his eyebrows and smirked. "The downfall of man."

Tenison remained silent.

"So, you desire riches, good looks, and women…" Tom listed them slowly as though considering each one thoroughly.

Tension scratched his ear distractedly. Flipping a coin out of his pocket, he announced that he required ice-cream and ran to a street trolley.

Tom laughed and glanced at the mirror once more before replacing it in his pocket. 'Power,' he thought soberly. 'That is what I want most.'

Tenison rejoined them, now burdened with a large butterscotch ice cream cone. The three of them meandered toward the Lestrange household, their current residence.

*****

"We picked up something for you from the store," Tom announced as he entered the Lestrange's living room.

Bellatrix jumped up from the couch, "My lord! A present for me?"

"Yes," he handed her one of the packages.

She looked at it and her face changed to an expression of disbelief, "You bought me…" She paused, "Um. Thank you. I guess I was running low - I'll just put this upstairs… Not that I need them now! - um, I don't know why I said that. I'll be back in a moment!" She raced up the stairs, her face bright red with embarrassment.

"Way to go!" Tenison gave Tom a soft punch in the arm. "You might get something out of this!"

"Like what?" Tom sat down on the couch.

"Like what? Like WHAT?! Like the one thing that matters in life!"

"And that would be?"

Tenison rolled his eyes to the ceiling, "The 'S' word! You might get it on!"

"Thank you for your wishful thinking, but no. I am not interested in her in that way. She is simply a colleague, really more of an employee."

"You never have any fun!" Tenison sat down on the floor and began to tickle Salazar. The baby laughed and smiled, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Have you seen him walk?" asked Tenison after a few minutes.

"What? No," Tom was examining a can of peaches.

"'Cause he can. He did so the other day."

"Really?! And you didn't think that maybe I would want to know about this?!"

Tenison shrugged his shoulders, "I thought it wasn't new. He can't do it very well. He falls over an' cries a lot. But, he does like to try as long as you give him something to walk to. Yesterday, I placed a package of potato chips on the floor an' he was at 'em within two seconds. He ate a couple. He likes the salted ones, the hot pepper ones not so much."

Tom shook his head. "Can you get him to do it now?" he asked.

"Sure! C'mon, Salazar!" he pulled the baby up onto his feet and then let go. Salazar looked over at Tom, a surprised expression on his face. "You can do it with your old man watchin'," Tenison replied. "Here," he pulled a handkerchief from his jean's pocket and threw it a few feet away. "Get it an' bring it back!"

Salazar looked at his dad. Tom smiled, hoping that it looked encouraging. Salazar walked over and grabbed the edge of the coffee table, his eyes still glued to his father's grinning face.

"My lord!" Bellatrix paused on the landing of the stairwell. "Salazar is walking now? That is just wonderful!"

"He's not doing it right," commented Tenison. "He's supposed to walk over there. He hates an audience, obviously."

**********

Tom closed the door behind him. After locking it manually, he muttered a few incantations to insure that no intruders would find their way in. Dim light filtered from the outdoors through spaces in the drapes. He drew them to a tight close. A small grunt escaped a large form that was stretched across the floor.

"Lumos," Tom muttered. He held his wand in the man's face. Crabbe's eyes gazed unseeingly into the distance. His body was still stiff from Tom's earlier administration of the stupefying charm. It seemed a shame to lose a faithful follower, but, as Tom had thought on many occasions, there were better death eaters to be had.

'After all,' Tom's thoughts drifted back to that prat Patricia, 'he didn't accomplish what I had asked him to do fast enough. It is all very possible that her death could have been avoided. She might have become a formidable follower.' His eyes dropped back to Crabbe.

"Avada Kedavra." A green light burst forth from his wand then dissipated. Crabbe remained unmoved. He was now void of life.

"Nox," Tom muttered. The light of his wand disappeared and a heavy darkness fell over the room.

He pulled something from his pocket and set it on the ground. He spoke a few words in parseltongue and the tiny snake curled up in a ball on the floor. Tom got down onto his knees and bent over the small creature.

"Priori Incantatum," he whispered. A small purple glow rose from his wand and then an image of Crabbe appeared. He was wispy like smoke and fluid like water in the air. Tom did not speak but mentally forced the image down Nagini's throat. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he did this, but it did not hurt. He had worried about that the first time, but it hadn't then and it would not now. Nagini was still curled in a tight ball, but her eyes glowed scarlet for an instant. Tom finished up by removing the remaining smoke that still drifted in the air. He then picked up the snake, tucked her back into his pocket, and left the room. He was done. That was his third horocrux.

******

"Dolohov. Take Crabbe's body and bury it," Tom gave the death eater a piercing glance and then went down the stairs.

Tenison was stretched out on the couch, asleep. Tom went over and shook him.

"Wh- what?" Tenison turned over. "Oh, it's you."

"I need your help, Tenison. I need to get that ring back."

"We did, remember?"

"I accidentally left it back at the school. For the second time, I must have it back."

The boy sat up, but his eyes were still shut with drowsiness. "You're kidding!" he said.

"Do I ever kid you, Tenison? Honestly?"

"No, sir. But why at two in the morning?"

"Because they will not be awake. No one will see you."

"Good gravy! They might! Don't you have people for that?"

Tom shook his head, "I have people, but not for that. That is your responsibility."

"What about Salazar?"

"He's also your responsibility. Now, we need to go fly over to Hogsmeade and we can decide on a proper course from there. I will bring a few people with me as backup, but I'm counting on you and your resourcefulness."

"Alright, but I better get to sleep in."

*****

Tenison was not happy at all about having to enter into the Hogwarts grounds. And, that was putting it lightly. Tom had been able to cast a spell that made Tenison almost disappear. It left him a bit seeable in certain light. In fact, it left him looking more like a ghost. Either way, he felt nervous.

He entered through a trap door - one which Tom had discovered during his third year. It was tight and damp and Tenison was glad when he reached the other end. He walked down a corridor, unsure about where he was headed. There was a scratching sound coming from around the corner and he stopped. He stared ahead and thought quickly about running in the other direction, when he saw two tiny points of light.

"A cat," Tenison mumbled in relief. The cat had picked up its pace and was headed straight for him. Now, normally cats didn't frighten Tenison, but this was an exception. It hissed and spat loudly, baring its tiny fangs. The noise of it was too loud. Tenison, on a whim, pulled something from his pocket. It was the can of snake meat which he had bought earlier. He held it out and the cat sniffed at it. He placed it on the ground and then sprinted up the corridor as quietly as he could. The cat, mystified by the meat-smelling can, did not follow and within a minute, Tenison was out of reach.

He crept up many flights of stairs. Momentarily he lost himself. Memories of Tom's directions - which involved a series of notable portraits - flooded back into his mind. Glancing around, he located a portrait of a buxom woman brandishing a wooden rolling-pin.

"Who's there?!" She shouted. "I know something is awry! PEEVES!" She shrieked. "PEEVES!!!"

Tenison did his best to ignore her. Small fingers of fear brushed him and the hair on the back of his neck raised. Whoever she was calling, they would probably make his task even more difficult.

Seeing a large archway, he made toward it. Before he reached it, his nose suddenly became cold and constricted.

"Whu-" Tenison began to exclaim.

"GOT YOUR CONK!" a screechy voice shouted.

"NAAH!" Tenison cried, unable to breath through his nose.

The tight grip released. A funny looking man appeared out of nowhere, floating, cross-legged about a foot above his head.

"Ickle student out of bedsie!!!" he cried gleefully.

"Who - what are you?" Tenison muttered, frightened, but curious.

"Too large for a firstie you are! Should know of Peevesie by now…" he drifted closer to Tenison.

In his hurry to edge away from the strange 'man,' Tension tripped and fell backwards. Peeves closed the newly-created distance between them.

"Don't recognize you!" he cried with new-found zeal, studying him.

"Stranger in the halls! Filtch! FILTCH!"

Tenison cowered. Now he was in for it. "I am not a stranger; I'm a ghost!" exclaimed Tenison.

Peeves stopped abruptly and said, "Too solid for a ghostie…"

"How would you know?" asked Tenison.

"Peevesie has dealt with them before!"

"Do they go through walls? How else would I have gotten in here?"

Peeves turned upside down in the air and stared at the boy for a moment.

"Besides," Tenison decided to use some information that Tom had given him. "I know The Bloody Baron! I shall call him an' he'll fix you!"

Peeves gave a loud cry and flew off in the opposite direction. Tenison got up off the floor and headed on, unsure of whether or not he was really safe or whether Peeves was going to get reinforcements. He hoped he had said the right thing. He came to a tapestry and climbed through a hole behind it. It led to another corridor and a stairway. He climbed the stairs and found himself in a short hallway. There was only one door and he opened it, revealing a broom cupboard. At the back, was a tiny trapdoor. Tom had cautioned the boy about this part of the journey. This was the door that led into the back of the headmaster's armoire. Tenison tried to crawl through as quietly as he could. Once inside, he opened on of the large doors. The office was unoccupied and he crawled out.

Tenison glanced about the room and saw what he was looking for. The ring was in a glass case at the far side of the room. Tenison tried to open the case, but it was locked. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed an umbrella from the armoire and smashed the glass. He grabbed the ring, ran back into the armoire, and then pulled a silver wristwatch from his jacket pocket. Within seconds, he was back in Hogsmeade. The portkey had worked.

People were rushing towards him. There was a shout of "Back off. It's mine!" and then Tom came into view. He grabbed the ring and examined it. Tenison closed his eyes; the ride back had made him dizzy. There was some whispering and then he was pulled up onto his feet. Someone slapped him on the back.

"Good work, boy!" It was Dolohov.

Tom came back over, broom in hand. "Climb on," he ordered Tenison.

"Glad I could help," the boy mumbled. "I almost got attacked by a cat and some sort of funny, short, baby-talking man."

"I must admit," Tom was smiling. "I had forgotten about Mrs. Norris - the cat. How did you get rid of her?"

"I gave her some rattlesnake meat, sir."

"What?" Tom turned to stare at him.

"I bought it the other day as a joke. It came in handy. She liked the smell of it."

"Alright, Tenison. You get marks for creativity. Even though you could have used tuna."

Tom kicked off from the ground and they soared back towards the LeStrange's.

********

"My lord," Bellatrix bit her lip and looked up at Tom.

He sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and reading the Daily Prophet.

"Mhmm." He continued to read.

"It occurs to me," she placed a plate of breakfast in front of him, "that you are so very busy all the time-"

Tom snickered noisily before taking another sip of coffee.

"And," Bellatrix continued, "Salazar can't take care of himself-"

"That's why I have Tenison." Tom refocused on his paper.

Bellatrix sat down near him, gazing over the paper and into his eyes. He continued to ignore her.

"My lord, Tenison does seem a dear to do all this. Clearly, he is under your unyielding control. How else would a muggle have become so tame?" She looked away, innocently, fingering the table cloth.

"What?"

"Did you not here me, my lord?" Bellatrix queried.

"Yes, I heard you. What do you mean by it, though?" Tom set his paper aside and disregarded his coffee; finally giving her his full attention.

"If you'll permit me, sir… I ask you to draw on your own experiences," she looked at him pointedly. "And what about the death eaters? We're not exactly pro-muggle, as I know you yourself are not, sir."

Tom stared at her, brow furrowed. She lowered her gaze slightly.

"You have allowed yourself a false sense of security, Bellatrix LeStrange. You have spoken much to bluntly. I will not permit you to use your familiarity or current hospitality as an excuse to unburden your own opinions on me in the hopes that I will back them."

"My lord, I have clearly explained myself incorrectly… given you the wrong idea."

Tom stared impatiently at her.

"I am just thinking of the others. We are just a tiny bit concerned that perhaps Tenison is dangerous."

"He's as dangerous as a fly caught in some jar," Tom averted his eyes.

"My Lord, I know that. But, perhaps, it would be better to have your son brought up by a wizard or witch instead. I mean, he is surely magical (following in your footsteps) and he will need more training than a muggle can give him. I, for one, would be honored to aid in raising him… He would know more than ever - even before he goes off to Hogwarts."

Tom considered for an instant before speaking. "I believe that Tenison is imparting knowledge that you, nor the others, could ever impart. He is learning to deal with the opposing side. I believe that could lead to better understanding. You are aware of the fact that you have to know what it is that you are fighting, are you not?"

"Why, yes, my lord!"

"Well, then it is settled," Tom went back to his paper and Bellatrix went off to the kitchen.

"So," Bellatrix's voice suddenly rose. "You would sacrifice your son to the ruin of his own being?!"

This was completely unlike Bellatrix. Tom had never seen her so upset. He was shocked and more than a bit ticked off. "I will remind you, Bella, that I am in charge of our group and if you do not follow, I will be forced to terminate your presence. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, my lord," her eyes dropped to stare at the ground.

"That's good (for your sake). I would hate to have to sacrifice you to the ruin of your own being," he grinned maliciously.

Tenison appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Riddle? Salazar just toppled over one o' the lamps in the other room an' broke the glass shade… I swept it up, though."

"I will fix it. Just leave the pieces in the dust pan," Tom followed the boy to the living room.

"He was walking around an' knocked it over when he fell."

Tom nodded and, pulling out his wand, reconstructed the glass shade. "You need to keep a better eye on him, Tenison. He's becoming a bit too mobile for safety."

"Yes, sir. Mr. Riddle?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you somethin' private?"

"Possibly… what?"

"I overheard your conversation with that woman… are you gonna get rid of me?"

"No. You are far too valuable. You do more than all my followers combined. I'd make you an honorary member, but that seems to breed disloyalty, discontentment, and all sorts of ugly, hideous things. I will not have you ruined. Fact is, I find myself tiring of this life already. I want people who will do what they say they will do. I cannot stand laziness. In fact, I may just vanish for a while."

"Vanish?"

"Um-hm. And not come back for a while. In fact, let's make this a bit more interesting. I want you to pretend to kill me. That way, they will believe me gone. That will be a way of testing their allegiance. They only think you're a muggle. It will be simple. They can search for me (if they do the right thing) and I can get away for a while. Maybe a few years. It will give me a better chance to continue on some experimentation…"

"I don't get it."

"I don't expect you to. Just follow my lead. You've been good at doing that so far."

"Whatever."

********

"What happened?"

"What?" Tom stared at Tenison confusedly.

"What happened when… when… well, how come you look like that?" Tenison stared.

Tom's red eyes narrowed a little. Picking up the spoon which rested on his napkin, he studied his reflection. Even in it's distortion, he was able to see the small changes that had taken place in recent months. Reddish eyes looked back at him. His face was twisted ever so slightly so that it had sleeker, more animalistic angles. The changes had been gradual.

"Why are you asking this now?" Tom placed the spoon back on the napkin.

Tenison placed three plates on the table and shrugged.

"Do you wish to learn about magic, Tenison?" Tom spoke with surprising intensity.

"Oh, no! I'm not getting sucked into whatever it is that all you people do! You're like a cult or something!"

Nagini slithered into the room. Her body was now two feet, head to tail.

Tom muttered several words in parseltongue and then switched to english to address Tension.

"We aren't a cult. You know perfectly well what kind of people we are - and don't say 'weird'!"

"Well, what's the point of learning about your stuff if I can't do any of it anyway. I know what muggle means. It means I can't do magic not that I just don't know how!"

"What if I told you," Tom grinned, "that I can make you capable of performing magic?"

"You're puttin' me on. I'm gonna go get Salazar up from his nap."

Tenison started to exit the room.

"I'm not putting you on," Tom looked at him pointedly.

Tenison exited as though he hadn't even heard Tom. When he returned, he was racing to keep up with Salazar who had run ahead of him.

"He's going to bust his head open one of these days if you keep letting him do that," Tom addressed Tenison.

"I tried to stop him," Tenison grunted, "but he burned me or something." Extending his arm, he pulled up a blackened sleeve to reveal a two-inch long burn mark.

Tom scolded Salazar is parseltongue before lifting him onto his chair so he could eat. With a tap of his wand, he healed the burn on Tenison's arm.

"Wouldn't you like to be able to do that?"

Tenison remained silent and took a bite of his dinner.

After a moment he asked,"Do what? Burn people?"

"No. Heal things, mend things, accomplish things in less time with less effort," Tom watched as the boy began to fiddle with a steak knife. "Like, for instance..," Tom whirled his wand through the air and his own knife began to cut his own meat on its own.

Tenison scowled, "Can you cut mine for me?" He shoved his plate over towards Tom.

"Quite a mood you're in," he commented and gave the boy a searching glance.

"It's just that my birthday is coming up an' sixteen is a dumb age to turn without a huge party or a car or somethin'."

"Well, how much is a car?" asked Tom.

"Two thousand an' five hundred," Tenison responded very quickly. "At least for this one car I've seen… It's been parked over in front of the post office for about a week. The lady who's selling it told me that it only has a thousand miles on it so far… it's real cherry condition…"

"You can't drive a car… and what do you mean that it has a thousand miles on it?"

"It means that it's only been driven that far."

"That seems like a lot."

Tenison shrugged. "I can learn how to drive it, easy. It's a natural thing with us muggles. We get behind the wheel and its just wham-bang an' were drivin' like pros."

"Wham-bang? You watch too much tv. Alright, we can go have a look at it tomorrow."

Tenison looked as though he would have hugged Tom, but he just grinned and continued to eat his dinner in silence.

*****

"I really can't come down on the price," the lady gazed at Tom, a queer look on her face.

"Can we get it now and pay for it in installments?"

"I don't know - I could use the money now..," she paused. "On second thought," her eyes glazed over. "I could give it to you now and you can pay me when you want to. Here," she handed over some papers and the keys. "Enjoy!" she walked down the street.

"What the * was that?" asked Tenison from the driver's seat.

"Just a spell that comes in handy some of the time."

"Have you ever done that to me?"

"No..," Tom smiled.

"Well, here she goes..," Tenison turned the key and the car started.

"This is not too bad," commented Tom, relishing the leather seats. "I could get used to this - it is more comfortable than a broom. Although, it is slower than apparating."

Tenison put his foot on the gas and the car lunged forward.

"Whoa!" Tom yelled in surprise.

"Sorry! I'll go slower."

Within a few minutes, they were heading down Main Street. The ride was quite uneven because Tenison kept having to break to get his speed down. Some driver in a car behind honked.

"Honk yerself!" yelled Tenison and increased his speed.

Tom was gripping the edge of his seat by now and his face was whiter than it had ever been before. "Are we getting towards the edge of town yet?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Almost."

"Good."

********

The car swerved and came to a screeching stop. Salazar screamed in fright. Tom held him with one arm and gripped the car with the other.

"Home," Tenison announced with a flourish.

Tom sighed, "Salazar and I are just going to sit here for a moment and… regroup."

Tension rolled his eyes and disappeared behind the front door.

"That was frightening," Tom addressed Salazar who opened the side door and hopped out and then turned around to stare at Tom.

"You're going to just leave me here?" Tom laughed.

Salazar nodded, but continued to watch.

"Buh-bye, daddy," Salazar waved.

Tom laughed. "What do you mean…" Salazar seemed to be moving farther and farther away.

"Stop! Stop you hellish vehicle!" Tom pointed his wand at the car, but to no avail.

Salazar continued to wave as the car slid backwards even further down the gentle slope.

"That's it!" Tom jumped from the passenger's seat to the driver's. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the spare key which he had taken on a whim. It was quite possible, he had decided, that Tenison might lose both keys and render the car pointlessly inoperable. Jamming the key into the ignition (as he had seen Tenison do), he turned it. The car remained silent and continued to roll backwards. Stomping his foot on the series of pedals, pushing buttons, and turning the ignition, the car roared to life. The windshield wipers waved back and forth across a now soapy windshield.

Tom pressed his foot on the furthest right pedal. The car zoomed backwards. Taking the stick shift in his hand, he moved it in another direction. The car zoomed forward.

Salazar ran from the out of control car and into the house.

Tom and the unruly car moved back and forth repeatedly.

"What are you doing?!" Tenison cried from the front porch.

"How do you get this thing to stop?" Tom yelled frantically.

"Press down on the middle pedal!" Tenison yelled over the roar of the vehicle.

Tom slammed his foot on the brake. The car jolted to a stop sending him toward the front windshield. The air bag* inflated and prevented his face from slamming into the steering wheel.

The car started to move forward again.

"Keep your foot on the brake and put the car in 'park'!" Tenison ordered.

"How do I do that?!!" Tom yelled irritably.

"Move the stick-thingy on your right in the direction of the 'p'!"

Tom did so.

"Can I remove my foot from the pedal now?"

"Yes," Tenison responded knowledgeably.

The car started to roll slowly backwards again.

"No, no, wait!"

Tom stopped the car again.

Tenison walked over and pointed to another lever.

"Push down on that. It's the emergency brake."

"Well, if you'd used that in the first place, it would have saved us a lot of trouble!" Tom yelled.

*****

"That thing is an infernal nuisance!" Tom lugged Salazar into the house and closed the door.

Tenison was grinning.

"What's so funny?!"

"The way your eyes get redder when you're mad," Tenison stopped smiling abruptly. "You don't have to drive it."

"I know that; I don't really want to ride in it either - it's yours and you can keep it!"

"Some mood..," Tenison got down on the floor and began to tickle Salazar.

Tom went into the kitchen and poured himself a small glass of wine. He sipped it and listened to the laughter coming from the living-room. The sound was comforting and he found himself quit glad that they had all lived through the day's experiences.

"Holy *!!" Tenison suddenly cried.

Tom pulled out his wand and ran out of the kitchen, dropping his glass on the floor.

"What is it?! I thought we had a rule about language..," Tom saw Salazar on the floor, still laughing. He looked up and saw Tenison, stuck to the ceiling as though someone had spread glue along his back. "Salazar! You bad boy!" Tom grabbed Salazar and hit him across the behind with his wand. "Don't you ever…"

"Sir! Can you get me down?" Tenison looked livid.

Tom pointed his wand at the boy and lowered him slowly.

"Why is he doing this?!" inquired Tenison. "Why me? What have I done?"

"Life is not always fair..," Tom seemed to be talking to himself. His voice was barely audible over Salazar's frantic sobbing. He put his son down on the floor and turned to the boy, "Do you want to know how to defend yourself?"

Tenison didn't answer right away. He kicked at the side of the sofa and made a face. "Maybe…"

"I don't want a 'maybe' - It's 'yes' or 'no'."

"Okay, yes, then."

"Alright, I will teach you some tricks, but first, we must do a few adjustments first…"

"Like what?"

"I have an idea of how I can make you a wizard. It is a bit tricky, but I think it will work well… First, I must go out and talk to some people. I will take Salazar with me and you can stay here and enjoy some peace… We will work on it later tonight," Tom grinned devilishly and then disappeared from the room. Tenison paused in silence, figuring that he had only gone to another part of the house, but after a few minutes, he gave up waiting and turned on the television. Finding a good sci-fi movie, he settled down on the couch and relaxed.

*******

Snap. The wand split and lay on the table. With a simple spell, the brittle shards blew aside, revealing a pure, glowing unicorn hair.

An old, weak-looking wizard sat bound by invisible cords. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes.

Tom smiled.

"Not to say I didn't like you as a headmaster, Professor Armando Dippet," Tom inspected the unicorn hair, "it's just, you weren't ever of much use… now you will be."

A small growl escaped from the balding wizard. Tom turned to glare at him.

"You should be glad that in your old age, you can be useful!" Tom chided. "You should thank me. Say 'thank you,' former headmaster Armando Dippet, 'Thank you, Lord Voldemort, for giving me this opportunity to serve your noble cause.' Say it!" Tom pointed his wand at the man and cried 'crucio.'

Dippet shuttered and cried out. Tom ended the curse. The wizard spat at Tom.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Dippet went limp, supported only by the magic that held him captive.

"Priori Incantatum." Tom forced the spell into the single unicorn hair. The hair writhed as though blown by a gentle breeze and then lay still.

Tom sighed with satisfaction.

*******

"Don't open that door!" Tenison screamed in horror.

Tom spun around in shock.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!!!" Tenison ducked under the coffee table.

"Why should I not open the door?" questioned Tom.

"Ouch!" the boy hit his head as he stood up. "I was talking to the guy in this movie… there's a zombie behind the door that he was goin' to open… You scared me."

"And so I aught to..," Tom closed the door and walked over. "I have something for you in this bag. I must put Salazar to bed. Meet me in the kitchen in five minutes."

"Okay," Tenison turned off the television and left the room. He wandered over to the refrigerator and pulled out a tub of whipped cream. He was just beginning to settle down to have a few good spoonfuls when Tom returned. The light switch was turned off and Tom began to scurry about the kitchen, closing the heavy drapes as he did so.

"What?! I can't see my food!" Tenison grumbled.

"You are going to make yourself sick eating whipped cream like that. Put it away, this is very crucial, very important…"

"Why did you turn off all the lights?"

"Because I need complete darkness," Tom sat down across from the boy. "I have here some unicorn hair…," he paused and stared at Tenison. "STUPEFY!"

Tenison went stiff, his eyes wide and unblinking. Tom got up from the table and drew the boy's eyelids down over his eyes and then moved him to the floor. He then went over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a steak knife. With this, he chopped up the unicorn hairs into smaller fragments. He then placed them into a pot and boiled it on the stove until the fragments melted into a silvery liquid. As the liquid cooled, Tom took up the steak knife once again and made a small cut in Tenison's arm. Blood began to stream out and Tom hastened to stop the blood from flowing freely. He whispered a few words and then forced the silvery liquid up the boys open vein. After closing up the wound with one last spell. He released Tenison from the stunning charm and then stood back as the boy opened his eyes.

"What the…"

With several quick spells, Tom relit the room and drew back the curtains.

"Drink this water." Tom handed him a large glass full.

Tenison blinked furiously at the bright light and then took a sip. After a half-second, he spit the liquid onto Tom.

"What are you doing?" Tom shouted.

"First, you make it all dark in here, then it's suddenly light in here, then you tell me to drink this water… it's all a bit too shifty for my liking. What's in this?" he gestured at the glass of water.

"Water," Tom answered shortly, raising his eyebrows. "You're becoming a bit paranoid, Tenison…"

"So are you!" he gestured at Tom as though it explained everything.

"What?"

"You're so clingy to all your possessions! For example, the day we met, you were looking for your precious ring. I had to go through Hell to get it for you, too!"

Tom opened his mouth to respond, but Tenison continued talking.

"And what about all this weird stuff your doing to yourself?! I-"

Tom raised his wand toward Tenison in silent rage. As he opened his mouth to cast a spell, Tom was thrown backwards, knocking into the kitchen cabinets.

"Whoa!" Tenison said. He gazed at the now unconscious Tom. A small bead of blood drizzled down his forehead from beneath his hair. "Why'd you go and do that to yourself!"

Tenison ran and grabbed a kitchen towel. After dipping it in the glass or water, he approached Tom cautiously; it was, after all, quite possible that Tom was funning him. He began to dab it on his forehead. Tom woke with a start.

Tenison jumped back like a nervous rabbit and pretended to be studying something on the curtains. Slowly, he returned his focus to Tom.

A look of wonder was on Tom's face. Reaching up, he touched the cut near his hairline. A slow smile spread across his face.

"What?" Tenison looked nonplussed.

"You did it."

"Did what?"

"Defended yourself."

"Huh?"

Tom shook his head. "Teaching you is going to be very interesting."

*****

Over the next few weeks, Tom spent much of his time training Tenison. The boy had good ability and he was useful since Tom could practice his own spells without mercy.

"Crucio!" he cried and pointed his wand at the boy.

Tenison reflected the spell and was completely unharmed.

"Did you feel anything?" asked Voldemort.

"It kinda felt like a gust of wind," Tenison shrugged.

"Hmmm… I must practice more…," he spoke more to himself and then went silent. I will have to learn to break through his defense if I am to truly succeed… if I am to be as powerful as I wish… powerful enough to gain from it…

He turned back to Tenison, his eyes glowing more than usual. The boy backed away a bit and then asked, "Isn't it enough for one night?"

Tom's grin of enthusiasm died down to a look of disappointment. "Alright… you may go off to bed."

Tenison went upstairs and climbed into his bed. All was quiet. Within a few minutes, the house was completely dark. Moonlight crept through the curtains and Tenison could not sleep. He was worried about all the magic; something inside of himself told him that it was not a good thing, that he would get hurt in the process or that he would become like Tom. It was too much.

Tenison arose and headed out into the hallway. Tom's door was closed, so he made his way slowly to the nursery. He went inside and found Salazar. The young boy was fast asleep in his small bed.

"Salazar!" Tenison whispered.

"Huh?" Salazar blinked and then rubbed his eyes.

"Salazar, it's me, Tenison. Be quiet! We need to get away… It's not safe here for either of us. Come on and please don't cry or scream or talk or anything," he picked up the boy and, cradling him in his arms, headed downstairs for the back door. They went out into the moonlight and Tenison put Salazar down.

"Let's head for the car," he grasped Salazar's hand and they approached the vehicle.

Tenison placed Salazar on the seat beside him and started the engine. It hummed to life and he put his foot on the gas peddle. The car lunged forward for an instant and then they were off at a fairly steady pace.

"I'm taking you back with me," Tenison replied after they had left the house fairly far behind. "I'm taking you back to the orphanage with me. You'll be safer there."

*******

"My lord!" Bellatrix Lestrange clutched her dishrag in her hand. She seemed to be restraining herself from throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"Bellatrix," Tom nodded, acknowledging her presence. "I may need a place to stay for an indefinite space of time - could be a day or a year."

"You are more than welcome here, as always, my lord!"

Her eyes roved all over him, seeming to pick apart every inch of him; taking in every detail.

"I am altered, am I not?"

Bellatrix bit her lip as though unsure of how to respond. "Yes, my lord…" she said slowly.

Tom nodded.

"I am stronger now. Stronger than when I took my leave. I am not yet through."

"I'm sure that it must be an ongoing process."

"I'm going out," he announced shortly.

"But you just got here! Wouldn't you like some food, a lie-down, a-"

"That won't be necessary. You'll find that all my things are already in the guest bedroom. I have some business in town that must be attended to."

"I would be more than delighted to take care of it for you, my lord. I-"

"NO! I mean, this is something that I must take care of alone."

"But the aurors-"

"I can handle them."

Bellatrix stared intently at him, considering what he had said.

Tom turned and exited the room.

*******

Here I go again, Tom thought. He chuckled thinking of what had happened last time. A line was already forming behind him. Why is it always so busy?

"To place a call, please insert one pence."

Tom ignored the recording, but continued to hold the receiver up to his ear. Glancing through the glass of the phone booth, he took note of his location.

"Horesferry Road," he mumbled to himself. Wherever Tenison and Salazar were, Tom decided, it must be near this phone booth. Picking up the worn phone book, he thumbed through the listings.

"Orphanages!" he said triumphantly. His fingers ran down the list. Alexandra Orphanage... Crippled Boys home… London Orphan Asylum…

"Regent Parks Boys Home!" Tom nodded, self-assuredly copying down the address.

Now all he needed to do was adopt his son back as well as Tenison.

Tom exited the phone booth and headed down the road. He walked along, hating each step he took. It was not because he hated walking, but because of the fact that the muggle, by whom he had procured a polyjuice potion, apparently had some sort of foot injury. The bottom of his left foot felt a bit inflamed and he winced every time he took a step. Tom tried to ignore it and pulled his coat tighter about him. Within a few minutes, he arrived at the orphanage.

He opened one of the heavy doors and found himself in a half-lit room. There was a desk and several chairs were set against the walls. A clock ticked merrily in the corner. Tom approached the desk and remove the hat from his head.

"Ex'cuse me, ma'am."

"How can I help you, sir?" asked the woman. She looked up from her typewriter and placed some thick glasses upon her nose.

"I'm interested in a boy… my wife and I are wanting to adopt one, maybe two."

"And you would like to see them?" the woman finished his sentence. "Come this way."

She led Tom down a hallway and then up a flight of stairs. "I'm Miss Holz. I am a secretary here - Mrs. Perch is the head of the orphanage. She is usually upstairs. I think she is probably not here at the moment - lunch, you know - but I can give you a tour. What's your and your wife's names?"

"I'm Jordan Hopkins and my wife's name is Carol…"

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Hopkins," she smiled. "In here."

She opened a door that lead to a room with lots of other doors leading in all directions. Tom felt the excitement mounting within him.

"Are you looking for a certain age range?" asked the woman.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. We were wanting a two-year-old."

"Oh, well then, your gonna have a hard time," she began to fiddle with her glasses. "You see, young boys are gone practically the moment they arrive - they're like kittens, if you understand me. Would you both maybe feel okay about an older boy? We have trouble finding homes for them as they get towards the teen years." There was a tinge of sadness to her voice now and her smile had melted.

"I suppose we could … but first, may I ask how often you get two-year-olds?"

"Not very often. We got one yesterday and he's already gone to a good home."

Tom took a split second to dive into the woman's mind; he could not ask too many questions or otherwise she would get suspicious. During Tom's delving, he discovered something that made his blood boil. He saw her giving his son to a man and woman, who called him Joseph. JOSEPH!!!??? He could happily strangle them!

"Do you have many teenagers?" asked Tom, trying to calm himself.

"Yes, come this way."

(Note: We are aware that they did not have air bags back then, but it has been deemed too funny to leave out.)


	6. Chapter 6

Tenison glared up at Tom.

"Don't look at me like that," Tom addressed him without a glance.

Tenison just rolled his eyes and refocussed them on a point somewhere in the distance.

"I did it for your own good," Tom seemed to be talking more to himself than to Tenison. "You don't belong in an orphanage. You should have a home. Somewhere you are accepted."

"Somewhere I'm accepted? And where in this hell is that?" A plant close to Tenison caught on fire causing them both to leap away. "That happens all the time now," Tenison remarked.

"I know," Tom said slowly. "But it's fun, isn't it? Having some control over the things around you. Having so many things within your reach. Having…" his voice grew stronger as he listed off the many benefits of magic.

"Let's cut the * and just do this. I'm here now and I clearly can't get away (particularly since you're now on some legal forms as my 'guardian.' Some guardian."

Tom remained silent for a moment. Pointing, he spoke, "It's that house, there."

"You're sure?" asked Tenison.

"It has to be. I can feel it."

Tenison shook his head. "Well, let's do it then."

Tom crept around to the side of the house and hurled a football over the fence. Quietly, he relocated to a bush that had a clear view of the front door.

"Go!" he whispered to Tenison.

Tenison walked slowly up the front porch. Reaching over, he rang the doorbell. Footsteps echoed through the house. The door swung inward revealing a woman in her late twenties wearing an apron.

"Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am. But I was playin' football with a couple of me mates and we lost the ball over your fence."

"Oh, well, you're welcome to go around back and get it then." She smiled and began to close the door.

"Wait! Uh… I already did that. And, it's caught in a thorny weed… perhaps I could borrow some garden clippers and…"

Tom rolled his eyes as he crouched behind the small hedge. A bug crawled on his sleeve.

Looking up, he saw that Tenison and the lady had both disappeared. Carefully, he made his way up to the door. As he opened it, the door creaked loudly.

"Silencio!"

He crept up through a door and, seeing some stairs, made his way up them. At the top, there was a long hallway with doors on both sides. Tom wandered down it, opening different doors.

"Bathroom… closet… master bedroom… guest bedroom… they must have a lot of money… closet… nursery!"

He entered excitedly and ran to the crib. Salazar lay asleep.

Tom slid his fingers under his sleeping son and began to lift him.

"Wahhhhhhhh!!!" the boy wailed at being awoken.

"Shhhhh - shhhhh!" Tom tried to make him stop. "Silencio!"

The sound stopped abruptly, yet Salazar continued to move his lips in frustration, tears now rolling down his cheeks.

Tom paused in momentary reflection, then, as resolution hardened, he apperated, appearing again in a nearby alleyway.

"Salazar," he said, looking the boy in the eyes. "Why all the fuss… you know me. You should be glad… should be thankful…"

"I would argue that point!" came a voice from above. It was eerily distant sounding, yet very familiar.

Voldemort raised his red eyes and they met those of his wife. She was drifting over-head, smooth and shimmery as silk, with a frown creasing her youthful face.

"You know how I feel about all this. That is why I am here - to see to it that no harm is done."

"Ah," Voldemort smiled vehemently. "So, they promoted you to guardian angel then, eh? Too, bad... you can wield little power."

"I have my voice and that's enough," she folded her arms and gave him a death-stare. "I have no words to say to you, though. Nothing in all the human languages is descriptive enough of your behavior! And, as to power," she smiled suddenly. "I have more than you know. You cannot make good judgement, so I am taking matters into my own hands!"

Voldemort grinned again, but before he could laugh or mock, he was forced to concede defeat. Beth, with some sort of cunning which the Dark Lord did not understand, spoke some soft words in a gentle tongue that made her, for an instant, shine bright as clear moonlight. Salazar gave a audible noise and then went limp in Voldemort's arms. The boy's soul floated up and into it's mother's arms.

"He shall come with me," she spoke and then faded away.

Voldemort's eyes widened and he shook Salazar's empty body in anger. How dare she! His mind seemed filled with a blinding scream. Tears streamed down his cheeks. After all he'd tried to do. His body felt ripped apart. His heart, he imagined, was in fragments barely beating in his chest. It was a dream. It had to be a dream. Family gives you everything - more than you could ever dream of - then takes it all away.

He muttered an incantation over the body of his son. He disappeared into nothing.

With a loud crack, Voldemort appeared before Tenison. His face was tangled into an expression of fury.

Tenison dropped the football wordlessly in front of him, speechless and frightened as he looked at Voldemort.

Succinctly, Voldemort reached into his cloak and produced the adoption papers. Dropping them to the ground, he turned away and apperated.

Tenison stood and looked down at both the football and adoption papers which rested at his feet. Something had gone terribly wrong. Looking back at the house, he heard the high-pitched scream of a woman. He picked up both the football and the papers, and he disappeared.

Tenison found himself standing in a place he didn't recognize. Resting the football on the ground, he lowered himself onto it and sat silently. He lay the adoption paper before him. His eyes followed the words down the page, ending on the elegant script that formed the name 'Jordan Hopkins.' A small snicker escaped as he gazed at the fake name. Folding the paper in thirds, he stuffed it in a coat pocket.

"He pro'ly wanted me to burn that like I did the bush," he spoke to no one. "He'll change his mind though. He'll be back. He needs my help."

Tenison began to ponder the fact that he might be able to find Tom, but stopped on the realization that the poor man probably needed some time alone. He kicked the football into a nearby bush and curled up under a nearby tree. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. Unfortunately, his brain would not let him rest. Tenison arose suddenly as an idea struck him. A picture came to his mind of a grand room full of velvet couches and draped in fine fabrics. A woman was humming along to a radio that was blasting music in the kitchen..

Tenison focused on this image and within a second, he was gone.

*****

The room was a bit different than he had remembered it. A couch had been replaced with a grand piano and the fireplace was cold and empty. In the silence, he wondered whether or not anyone was even home. Then, he heard a voice. He followed the sound down a hallway and to a door. Tenison put his ear to the surface and listened.

"Terrible rain - makes my bones creak worse than ever!"

"Ha, ha, ha!" a woman's laughter echoed off the walls. "Oh, Uncle, you should move to the south. You know the rain rarely stops!"

"Right, my dear. But I would miss the Quidditch. Not much of that down south."

"But the women are nice," another man's voice sounded. It was younger sounding and carried a loftiness that reminded Tenison, dimly, of Tom.

"Rodolphus! How can you?"

"I'm talking about your uncle - not myself. I've got all the woman I need - and then some!"

There was more laughter and chinking of glasses.

Tenison took a deep breath and opened the door.

The blank stares that greeted him were expected, but a bit more alarming than he had anticipated. Bellatrix was the first to speak.

"Filthy, vile, mudblood!" she cried. "How dare you enter our house!"

"I was looking for Tom," Tenison felt dumb after mumbling this.

"He is not here! Go!"

"He left me," Tenison continued, ignoring Bella's rash entreaties. "He taught me to do magic and now he has abandoned me… I have nowhere else to go. Here!" he flung the papers at Bellatrix. She picked them up and scanned them. Suddenly lifting her eyes, she grinned.

"Oh.. So, he left you?" her voice was simpery. "I don't know why he would do that," she approached him, feigning pity.

Tenison stared beyond her, seemingly unaffected.

"Speak, boy!" Bellatrix commanded bringing her wand up to point at him threateningly.

"Did Tom teach you that or did you think that one up on your own?" Tenison feigned confidence, trying to ignore the claims she had made regarding Tom; a part of him thought she was right. He dropped into a chair and looked around at the group.

Bellatrix's mouth was agape. "You-you really dare to talk to me like that? I'll have you know that I am in great standing with the Dark Lord! You are clearly little more than a piece of fuzz stuck to his cloak!"

"Big talk from Tom's tart…" Tension picked at a string hanging from his sleeve.

A shriek escaped from Bellatrix and she seemed to hesitate before hurling herself in his direction, eyes on fire.

Tenison's years of experience as a muggle told him to move out of the way, but his new magical abillities reacted first, and she was thrown away from him. She landed in a crumpled heap on the other side of the room.

"Not enough wizard to go around that you wanted to * me, too?" Tenison continued to stare at the string on his sleeve.

"Rodolphus! Rodolphus!" Bellatrix screamed from the floor.

The one whose voice vaguely resembled Tom's stared at Bellatrix almost fearful.

"Defend me!" she screamed after a moment's silence.

The man who aparently belonged to the name Rodolphus, continued to stare blankly.

"You men are all the same!" She stood up seeming to grow stronger. "I'll just have at him again then!" She pointed her wand at Tenison.

"Some boy!" Bella's uncle spoke up. His face was red and he seemed unable to say anything else. "Some boy!"

"Yes, Uncle," Bellatrix tried to shut him up. "Alright, what do you want?!"

"I want," Tenison lowered his voice. "I wanna get back in touch with him. I wanna stay here 'til he returns - he'll be back eventually." Tenison finished and then got up and left the room.

He didn't look back but ventured into the living room. He sat down on one of the sofas and listened to the continued conversation coming from the dinning room. He felt quite annoyed at this point and a bit shaken. But, most of all, he felt cross.

"Voldemort!" he stood up suddenly and cried into the air. "If you can hear me, come back! I have always been there for you an' this is not fair. Come back! Come back or I shall do something desperate! Remember, you told me about your father - don't do this to me!!!"

All was suddenly silent. His heart was pounding and he felt strangely dizzy. Tenison sat back down and waited. After a minute, he pulled out the adoption papers and opened them up on the coffee table in front of him. He pulled out a lighter and flicked it open. He viewed the tiny flame for an instant before running it along the edge of the paper. The paper turned brown and curled along the bottom edge. He moved the flame away and blew on the paper. It cooled and he waited. After another minute, he repeated the process, letting the fire venture a bit farther up the page before stopping it. He waited again and then something snapped. Tenison rose and kicked the coffee table as hard as he could. It turned over, breaking a menagerie of glass cigar trays and a blue vase.

CRASH!

"That's it! I quit! I wanted it but no! No, I can't 'ave it! I can't get anything from you. I.. I…"

"Can't get respect?… can't get allegence?…. can't obtain loyalty?" the voice crept from behind him and grazed his ear with a simpering unearthliness.

"Ha!" Tenison turned around. "So, you did hear me!"

"Yes, yes… Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

At that instant, there were footsteps. "My lord!" Bellatrix was grinning. "Where have you come from? We were worried…"

"So worried that you could not live without entertaining guests for dinner?" Voldemort's voice went soft.

"My lord… we must all eat at some time…"

"Quiet Bella…," he turned to Tenison. "You are correct. I had my doubts, but you are worth keeping… We shall go now."

******

Tenison dangled the remains of a parrot in front of Nagini.

"Now, remember, it isn't necessarily going to be this easy forever. Some day, you may find yourself on your own. You'll need to know how to catch your own food. Voldemort and I can't bring things to you forever. This," he wiggled the bird a little, "is a parrot formerly known by the name of Noddy. Belonged to that old bat Ms. Peters about a mile away. Point is, be thankful for what you have." Tenison dropped the bird to the ground. Nagini darted forward and began to eat the dead bird.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Voldemort glided into the room. Tenison waited patiently, knowing he would say more. "The movements of a snake. The way they look before they are about to strike. The way they eat their prey."

Tenison was for a moment reminded of Bellatrix and he had to hold back a chuckle.

Voldemort lowered himself to the ground, contented to watch Nagini eat.

"Sir? You did more to yourself in the short time we were apart," Tenison stated.

"Yes."

His facial features seemed more animalistic than ever, he was thinner, and his skin paler.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"I asked first."

"Because," Voldemort responded, "because strength and power is within reach. All I have to do is accept it. This is all the fruits of many long years of study. I am strong. I am powerful. I'm almost…" his voice faded away.

"Why… why is it so important?"

"Why is it so important to you?"

"What do ya mean?" Tenison asked defensively.

"I mean why do you care what I do to myself?"

"Cuz…" Tenison thought for a moment. "Cuz if it's important to you - for whatever reason - it's important to me. We're family. That's what family does."

"Family?" Voldemort's voice seemed to twist the word.

Tenison wordlessly removed the partly burned paper from his coat and held it before Voldemort.

"You still keep those adoption papers with you?" Voldemort chuckled tensely.

"Yeah, I do." Tenison folded the papers and returned them to his coat's inner-pocket.

Nagini squirmed slightly.


	7. Chapter 7

"I hate not having plumbing," Tenison was feeling a bit tense about the fact that Tom had chosen once again to camp out in the forest near Hogwarts.

"I need to be able to keep an eye on things… and be able to be in close contact with my Death Eaters…," Tom replied as he pitched their tent. He circled around waving his wand and thinking spells in his head.

"I'm a city lover. I don't like 'em - your "friends" I mean. They're snobbish and stupid."

Voldemort smiled at that, "I agree whole-heartedly. But, they are helpful in many ways… does the tent look straight to you?"

Tenison nodded.

"Alright, might as well go inside… the sun is hurting my eyes…"

They went in and Tenison was once again surprised by the fact that the tent, although small on the outside, held a full kitchen, living room, bedroom, and bathroom, fully furnished.

"See..," Tom opened a door at the side of the living room. "For your convenience, a bathroom."

"Alright." Tenison flopped onto the couch and grabbed a book off the coffee table. He stared at it for an instant and then began to flip through it.

"Wonderful book..," commented Voldemort, a pleased grin spreading across his face. "Wonderful for learning all sorts of clever and…"

"Are these your notes?" Tenison interrupted.

"Yes. Read them if you wish… you may find them… _interesting_."

"What's this note about Grindle..wald?" Tenison read the name slowly and made a face. "Terrible name!"

"Ah..," Voldemort sat down in a chair across the room and began to slowly stroke Nagini, who was curled up in his lap, a terrible phantom of a pet cat. "He's…" Tom hesitated for a moment, "an influential wizard."

"Another one of your power-thirsty role models?" Tenison dropped the book back onto the coffee table in disgust.

Voldemort's eyebrows raised slightly. "A little moody today, I see."

Tenison grumbled something to himself and then spoke to Voldemort, "Why all of this? I mean, even if you become more 'influential' - I think the word you meant was 'powerful' - than this Grindlewald bloke, aren't you just going to…" Tenison's seemed to struggle with what he was trying to say before continuing, "100 years from now, what will be the difference?"

Tom sat quiet for a minute. Tenison began to wonder whether his question had fallen on deaf ears. Tom stood up and walked over to an overflowing bookshelf. Picking one of the books off the shelf, he threw it to Tenison who caught it.

"Read that. It's what you're lacking. Power is useless without the knowledge of what you can do with it and how to do it. It should answer some of your more basic inquiries regarding magic. You can do more with that small power than your muggle-cramped mind can currently realize."

Tenison weighed the book in his hands, grimacing. "Not only is it thick, but it's also heavy!" he complained.

Voldemort stared at him intently.

Tenison stared back challengingly for a moment. Giving up, he opened the book and began reading.

Voldemort went back to his chair and watched as the boy read. But, although his eyes appeared busy with the action of watching Tenison, his mind was elsewhere. What did it matter 100 years from now? The boy did not understand, did not know, did not realize that 100 years mattered more than anything. Life would be different, society would be different - and Voldemort would be a name that all would fear to speak. He would sit enthroned above all, immortal and able to see past the present and to give law and counsel that would drive the destiny of all man and creature kind. If only the boy knew. But it was not yet time to unveil his darker designs - not yet.

Tenison sniffed and Tom jumped imperceptibly. "What?" he asked.

"I was jus' sniffing," Tenison had a startled look in his eyes. "I can't believe (or maybe I can) that you read this stuff…"

"Uninteresting?" Tom questioned quietly.

"No - it's interesting - I just wish I had stayed a muggle. I hate learning things over again. It's like spending your whole life inhaling and exhaling and then someone comes along and tells ya that you don't know how to breathe. It's daunting. I'm not like you. I'm not studious, I'm not smart, I'm just me."

Tom frowned and his eyes narrowed. "You only think you aren't more than you are presently. I see more in you than I have seen in most people… I may have high expectations, but that does not permit you to disappoint me. I have backed you up and you should be wary of making me look like a _fool_…"

Silence seemed to wind throughout the entire room. Neither human nor snake moved. Tenison blinked and a light filled his eyes as though that small movement was an unforgivable offense. His nose was running slightly, but he wouldn't dare sniff or reach for a handkerchief. A clock positioned high on the far wall ticked obnoxiously. Tenison chanced a glance at Voldemort who was now deep in thought. Silently, he lowered his eyes back to the book and recommenced reading. Suddenly his mind was a sponge. Something in him didn't want to disappoint Tom. He read with all the conviction he could muster. An hour past, then two…

The clock chimed loudly. Tenison looked up. It was 8 o'clock.

"Hey, Tom. I-" Tenison looked around. In the place where Tom had sat, Nagini rested lazily. Tenison stood up and walked about the tent exploring all it's rooms.

"Empty," he muttered to himself as he returned to the den-like area of the tent. "Tom, I don't know where you are, but at least I can be sure that you're up to somethin'."

He walked quietly over to Nagini and then got down onto the ground so that he was eye-level with her.

"Nagini…"

She opened her glowing eyes and stared at Tenison, who was now feeling slightly unnerved.

"Have you seen Tom…?"

The snake seemed to understand that Tenison was asking a question but she seemed unable to answer.

"You prob'ly don't understand English," Tenison spoke slowly, more to himself than to Nagini. "I guess I can try snake language…. um...Sheee hesss ishh ehh."

Nagini blinked and some fire seemed to be lit in her large eyes.

"You're mocking me aren't you? Okay, um… heshhhhehhh sleeesh…."

Nagini responded with one long hiss, a frequent answer that she used whenever she talked with Tom. Tenison had a feeling that the sound meant some sort of agreement, the only issue was that he was not sure what he had said, asked or, possibly proposed. It didn't matter though, because Nagini suddenly slithered down from the chair and headed for the door. Once there, she looked back at Tenison and then up at the doorknob. Tenison, understanding, went over and opened it. Nagini went out into the clearing and looked back at Tenison once again, apparently urging him to follow her. He did so and they both disappeared into the darkening forest.

Tenison walked and Nagini slithered for about an hour. Tenison was having his doubts, but he knew no one - the trees, the squirrels (he wondered if there were any in this odd forest), Nagini - none of them were interested. Tenison shrugged visibly, deciding that Nagini knew where she was going. He didn't have to wait much longer anyway. Moonlight struck him. He was in a clearing. Straight ahead of him was a lake and even further ahead of him, a castle.

Nagini was far ahead of him now. He raced up behind her.

"Why are we here? I mean… er…. heeeeeesssss sheeehesssalin… um…" Tenison paused.

Nagini ignored him.

"Not so lucky in my choice of snake sounds this time, I guess."

They walked forward in silence until they reached the lake. Both stopped and stared at the water, then at each other.

"I can get myself places… when I know where I want to be…" He paused and stared up at a high turret on the castle. "Hold on," he told himself. He lowered himself down on his knees and extended a hand toward Nagini. She slithered towards it, onto his arm, and rested her body around his shoulders.

"Alright." He thought hard about the turret. _I want to be there. Nagini and I want to be up in that turret…_

He opened his eyes. His feet still rested firmly on the ground. Nagini was staring at him as though she once again doubted his ability.

"I read it in the book. I've done this before and I'm doing it right," he told the snake angrily.

Nagini turned her head away and rested her chin on his shoulder.

Tenison glared up at the turret. No, now he was glaring at a door which led…

"Out of the turret! We got here. See! I told you!" he laughed victoriously at how he had proved himself.

Nagini blinked docilely and bowed her head slightly.

"Er… I guess we'll go on then. Where is Tom in all of this anyway?"

Nagini looked away from Tenison for an instant. "What? Why are you looking down at the ground?"

She hissed and then began to lower herself from the boy's shoulders. She slithered around him until she reached the brick floor of the small balcony on which they stood. Tenison shivered slightly as the thought flickered in his mind that she may try and squeeze him to death. But, she was gone an instant later.

A voice sounded from above. "Alright, don't crowd around! Now, remember! We are looking for Pluto…. Make sure to mark it on your charts. Get with your partners and take turns using the telescope…"

There were many other voices at this point. Tenison looked up and saw a group of people on the balcony of the nearest turret. They were almost imperceptible in the dark what with their black robes, but the moon was full enough to cast some light on their faces.

Tenison was not sure what to do. Besides, it was too late…

"Hello there young man!" the astronomy professor hailed him from above. "What are you doing there at this hour?"

"Um… I am not sure…"

"You mean to say that you are out at this hour and you do not know? You should be in bed. What house are you?"

"House? Um..," Tenison thought for a split-second and then gave the only answer he knew to the question. "Slytherin."

"Slytherin? Why are you not in your dormitory? You obviously are not a first year and you are not (I presume) sleepwalking?"

The students were all looking at him now. There was giggling, snickering, and all sorts of whispering going on now.

"I wanted a breath of fresh air…"

"Well, I suppose that I can send down Mr. Lupin to escort you back…"

"Alright," Tenison was feeling very uneasy about this. He was not a student or anything and they were going to find out.

"You wait there young man. He should be down shortly… Alright class, back to your telescopes; the first quarter moon is beginning to rise…"

Tenison sat down on the floor of the balcony and waited. A minute passed and then the door opened. A boy about his same age approached him. He was wearing robes, a pointed hat, and a huge button on his front with a large "P" on it. The boy stared at him for an instant and then beckoned him in.

Tenison was beginning to think Tom wasn't here at all. He was also beginning to think he'd said the wrong thing to Nagini…

The boy called Lupin spoke suddenly, "I don't recognize you."

"Errr…" Should he lie? Should he tell the truth? "I can do magic."

"Alright…" Lupin seemed a little perturbed at Tenison's apparent slowness, "I can, too. So can everyone else here."

"Well, I just thought you oughtta know," Tenison was feeling cocky and daring now, "that I have just as much right to be here as you do." He sniffed proudly.

Lupin glared suspiciously in his direction and then grumbled under his breath, "You have the disposition of a Slytherin, I'll give you that!"

Tenison almost smiled - he was doing something right.

"Where are we going?" Tenison asked as they climbed a staircase.

"Where do you think we're going?" Lupin tested him.

"I'm not stupid. I know the Slytherin common room is in the dungeon." Tenison was beginning to feel very thankful for Tom's detailed recollections of Hogwarts.

"I'm taking you to Headmaster Dumbledore."

Tenison shut up immediately. He didn't know if this bode well or not, but he did know that a visit to with the headmaster meant more questions.

After several minutes in silence, they came upon a large statue of a griffin.

Lupin addressed the figure, "Gryffindor Prefect Remus Lupin requests counsel with Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."

The griffin began to shake and stairs erupted from beneath, winding towards the sky and raising the statue higher and higher until it was out of sight.

With a gesture from Lupin, Tenison scaled the stairs, prefect in toe. As they reached the top, a desk came into view. Bookshelves lined the walls. A bird picking quietly through his feathers, looked up to view the guests.

"Ah, Remus!" A man with a long beard and half-moon glasses appeared before them, smiling. He was wearing a long pin-stripe nightgown. Tenison had to hold back his laughter at the man's comical appearance - finally a wizard who looked the part!

"Good evening Headmaster. I'm sorry to have interrupted your slumber, but this boy was caught out of bed - obviously after hours. Says he's a Slytherin. I don't recognize him."

"No need to worry, Remus. I was actually up and admiring a rather curious gift from an old acquaintance. I hadn't thought of it for years, but a dream brought it back into the foreground of my mind. You, on the other hand were in astronomy class, were you not?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

"Well, you best be getting back to it. I think me and," he paused, peering at Tenison.

"Errr, Quirrell. Quirinus Quirrel," Tenison replied nervously.

"Mr. Quirrell and I can take it from here."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Lupin responded, exiting.

"Now," Dumbledore turned to Tenison and smiled kindly. "I do not think we have met. I am Professor Dumbledore - headmaster of this school."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Tenison extended his hand and the headmaster took it in a firm handshake. "I can do magic," Tenison repeated.

Dumbledore gave him a calculating look and then smiled, "It is not often that we skip a student. In fact, I do not believe that we have ever skipped a student. But, there is a first time for everything. My only regret is that it happened within my first five years of being headmaster. But, I do not believe it will be an issue, I am human after all." He winked and Tenison began to feel a bit less nervous. "Now," he continued. "What sort of magic can you do?"

"I can app'rate and I can set things on fire. I bet that I can do more…"

"Strange. Do you have a wand?"

"No, sir."

"And you find that these abilities come naturally to you like breathing?"

Tenison gulped and tried to keep his composure, "I can't control them well, if that's what you mean."

"Yes. How old are you?"

"Almost seventeen."

"Hmmm, well that would be your last year here. I can't very well put you in with the first years… I will need to think about this. Where are your parents?"

"Dead, sir. I grew up in an orphanage in London."

"I see. Well, I will (as I already said) need to think on this a bit. For now, why don't you stay in Hogsmead. I have a brother there who will be happy to put you up for the night. He owns a tavern down there. He'll give you room and board. I'll have to send someone with you of course…" Dumbledore turned and spoke to a painting on the wall behind him, "Roderick! Wake up!"

The man in the painting opened one eye and moaned, "Whatever it is, it cannot be more important than my daily shut-eye. Albus, you know that…"

"Roderick, I need a favor. Go to your other painting and tell Minerva to come down here."

"Alright…"

"Hard to get too much help at such a late hour," Dumbledore mused. "So, Quirrell, I wonder… who told you about Hogwarts?"

Tenison was a bit surprised by the question, "Um… I jus' app'rated here. No one told me 'bout anything."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at that. "You cannot apperate onto these grounds. Not, at least without very dark magic,…" his voice lowered to a whisper so that it sounded as though he were just talking to himself.

A knock was heard at the door.

"Oh, come in."

"You wanted to see me, Albus?" A button-down witch of about thirty appeared in the room.

"Yes, Minerva. I thank you for arriving at such a late and inconvenient hour. Mr. Quirrell seems to be needing some assistance," Dumbledore moved behind his desk and began to write in long, smooth letters upon some parchment, "I would like you to take him down to my brother, Aberforth. Give him this note," he sealed the parchment with wax and handed it to her. "It should explain everything that must be said at this time."

The young witch hesitated a moment as though wanting to know more. Dumbledore, however, had become entirely preoccupied by a button on his long nightgown. Giving it up as a lost cause, Minerva touched Tenison's shoulder causing him to jump. He looked up at her and she jerked her head slightly towards the stairs.

"Oh, right," he mumbled.

"Goodnight," the headmaster's voice echoed to them as they reached the foot of the stairs. Tenison stared over his shoulder as the stairs disappeared into the ground and were once again replaced by the griffin.

"I'm Professor McGonagall," introduced the witch. "I teach transfiguration here at Hogwarts."

"Transfiguration… that's where you change a thing into something else."

"That's correct."

"Is that useful?" Tenison half-squinted at her.

McGonagall eyes rolled heavenward. "If you attend Hogwarts, young man, you'll soon find that it is."


End file.
